No One Knows Who I Am
by The 1000th Kiss
Summary: A drug lord, a concerned brother, a dying mother, a false name...Collins' past is catching up with him.
1. The Message

**An idea came to me so I ran with it. I ran far away with it. And I dropped that idea right here. I hope you like my idea.**

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

Angel and Collins sat on the couch watching the small t.v. they purchased the previous week. Since Angel had picked the channel while Collins was out of the room, the anarchist had no idea what they were watching. He picked up that it was a romantic movie very quickly, but other than that, he was lost. His arm was wrapped around his lover's shoulders just like the man's was around his girlfriend on the movie. He smiled and kissed the top of Angel's head. A few moments later, Angel's hand was on his thigh and she was snuggling up to him.

"Honey, are we like them?" she asked, her eyes glued to the t.v. The man on the movie was holding his girlfriend up by her waist and spinning around with her.

"A little," Collins replied, wrapping his other arm around his lover. "I think we may be just a _bit _happier." Angel giggled and was suddenly out of Collins' arms and standing up. "Where ya goin', baby?"

"I have to pee, sweetheart," Angel told Collins. "Tell me what I missed when I get back."

"I will," Collins promised, chuckling. He watched Angel leave the room. He'd been watching the movie alone for about two minutes before the phone rang. Silently deciding to let the answering machine take the call, he continued to watch the movie. The answering machine beeped.

"_Hi!" _Angel's voice came from the machine. _"You've reached Angel and Collins."_

"_The happiest couple in all the world!" _Collins' voice interjected.

"_We can't come to the phone right now-" _Angel's voice continued.

"_We're probably in the bedroom!" _Collins' voice interjected again.

"_Honey!" _Angel's voice shrieked as she started giggling. _"Leave a message along with your name or number and we'll get back to you as soon as we-"_

"_Get finished in the bedroom!" _Collins' voice interrupted.

"_Collins!" _Angel's voice exclaimed. The answering machine beeped loudly as Collins chuckled at their mess of an outgoing message.

"_Tom?" _a male voice came from the machine. Collins' attention immediately went from the t.v. to the answering machine and he stood up quickly. It was the voice of his brother, James. He hadn't heard that voice in years, but he still knew it all too well. _"Tom, it's me. I've been callin' around tryin' to find you for three days. Why are you hiding?" _Collins stared at the machine in silence. _"Look . . . Ma's in the hospital again. She's real sick, Tom . . . the cancer's back." _Collins winced, but stayed in the spot he was in unaware that Angel had returned to the living room._ "She's in so much pain and she really wants to see both of us before she . . . just call me back. Please, Tom. You owe it to her." _

The answering machine beeped again as Collins closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Who called?" Angel asked. Collins turned to see Angel walking toward him.

"Wrong number," Collins replied, sitting back down on the couch. He patted the spot next to him. "Come sit. I'll tell you what you missed." Angel slowly sat down next to Collins, keeping her eyes on the answering machine.

"Did they say who they were?" she asked.

"Who?"

"The person who called."

"Don't worry about it, Ang." Angel nodded and continued to stare at the answering machine as Collins told her what happened in the three minutes of the movie she had missed. She barely heard a word of it over the voice in her head nagging her to ask Collins questions about the mysterious caller until he answered at least one. Despite wanting to listen to the voice, she remained silent.

And her silence was magnified by the blinking red light on the answering machine.

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	2. Close Call

**Next chapter. That is all.**

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

Angel was lying in bed next to Collins staring at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the blinking light on the answering machine. She really wanted to know who the man was that called and why Collins had lied to her about him having the wrong number. After attempting to make herself believe that the man actually _did _have the wrong number just so she could get some sleep, Angel turned and looked at her sleeping lover. She waited about three minutes before slowly slipping out of bed and tiptoing out of the bedroom.

As she quietly made her way down the hall, she periodically looked over her shoulder to make sure Collins wasn't following her. The minute she turned the corner into the living room, her eyes went to the answering machine. The bright, red light was still flashing. She quickly crossed the room and stared at the light for a few more seconds before pressing the button on the machine to replay the message from earlier.

"_Tom? Tom, it's me. I've been callin' around tryin' to find you for three days. Why are you hiding? Look . . . Ma's in the hospital again. She's real sick, Tom . . . the cancer's back. She's in so much pain and she really wants to see both of us before she . . . just call me back. Please, Tom. You owe it to her."_

Angel stared at the answering machine as questions swarmed around in her mind. Could this man be Collins' brother? Why hadn't Collins mentioned him before? Why didn't Collins seem to care that his mother was in the hospital? If the man _was _Collins' brother, was Collins avoiding him? Is that what he meant by 'hiding?'"

"What are you doing?" Collins said, causing Angel to quickly turn and face him. He had an angry expression on his face and his arms were crossed. Angel was speechless. "What are you doing, Angel?"

"I was just _really _curious, honey," Angel explained, barely looking at her lover. "Is that guy your brother? Why didn't you take the call?" It was quiet for a long moment.

"Go back to bed, Angel," Collins finally said. There was no emotion to his voice whatsoever. Angel was then able to make herself look at Collins' face. His voice didn't match his expression at all.

"Collins, honey, I-"

"SHUT UP AND GO TO BED!" Collins interrupted. Angel took a step back before practically running past Collins to get back to the bedroom.

* * *

><p>When Collins woke up the next morning, Angel wasn't beside him. She had cowered when he tried to put an arm around her and apologize for yelling at her. And he could've sworn he heard her crying before she finally fell asleep. He got out of bed and went to the living room where Angel was sitting on the couch with her sketch pad on her lap. He couldn't see what she was sketching, but he assumed it was a new outfit. He slowly approached the couch.<p>

"Angel?" he said. Angel slowly looked up at him. "You workin' on an outfit?" Angel nodded her head and held the sketch pad up to let Collins see her new creation. She went back to sketching her outfit as her lover sat down next to her. "Baby . . . I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to yell at you. Did I . . . scare you?"

"Yes," Angel replied, placing her sketch pad on the coffee table and folding her arms across her chest. "And you really hurt my feelings."

"I'm _so _sorry, Angel. I really didn't mean to hurt you." Angel looked at Collins. He looked extremely tired.

"Honey, are you okay?" she asked.

"I didn't sleep well last night. I felt so bad for yelling at you." Angel unfolded her arms and slid closer to Collins. "I'm sorry, baby. Can you forgive me?"

"You know I can't stay mad at you." Collins kissed Angel's forehead. "But you have to promise you won't yell at me anymore."

"I promise."

"Good. Now, I can tell you that we were invited to the Life Café for brunch by Mark, Roger, and Mimi."

"That sounds nice." Collins yawned.

"Honey, if you're tired, we can just-"

"No, I'm fine, baby," Collins interrupted. "I'm sure a shower'll wake me up." He placed a hand on Angel's thigh. "Especially if you join me." Angel giggled as Collins pulled her to her feet and toward the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"Hi, Mark, it's Angel and Collins," Angel said into the payphone outside Mark, Roger, and Mimi's apartment building. "We need the key, please." Angel and Mark hung up the phone at the same time. She watched as Mark appeared on the fire escape. He tossed the key to her and she caught it. "Thank you, honey!"<p>

Once she and Collins arrived at the door of the loft, Angel unlocked it and Collins slid it open. He let Angel go inside before him and shut the door after he stepped inside. Angel gave Mark the key back.

"You should let Angel call for the key more often," the filmmaker commented. "She's much more polite than you are." Collins flipped Mark off as he sat down on their couch. Angel sat next to him and he put an arm around her shoulders. Roger and Mimi then emerged from the rocker's room.

"Hi, chica!" Mimi exclaimed. "Hey, Collins!"

"Hey!" Angel and Collins replied together.

"Now, we have wait for Maureen and Joanne," Mark said, winding his camera. Roger sat in the armchair next to the couch and Mimi sat on his lap. "Hey, Collins, did a James Martin call you last night?" Angel's attention quickly went to Mark and Collins stiffened.

"No," Collins lied. "Why'd you ask?"

"He called here last night looking for you. He said he's been looking for you for a while, so I gave him your number." Mark walked toward the couch. "I'm really surprised he didn't call. He seemed like he _really _needed to talk to you." The phone suddenly rang and the answering machine picked up.

"_SPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK!" _Mark and Roger's recorded voices came from the answering was a loud beep.

"_Look, I'm pretty sure Tom's avoiding me, so can I ask you for a favor?" _James' voice said. Collins closed his eyes and swore violently in his head. Mark walked over to the phone and picked it up.

"Collins said you never called him last night," he said into the phone. Collins' eyes snapped open and landed on Mark. "Well, he's right here. Do you want to talk to him?" Collins stood up and quickly crossed the room. "Okay, I'm giving him the phone right-" Mark's sentence was cut short by Collins ripping the phone cord out of the wall. His friends and lover stared at him with widened eyes and opened mouths as the loft door slid open.

"Are we ready for brunch?" Maureen asked excitedly, entering the loft with Joanne right behind her. She then noticed everyone was staring at Collins. "Did we miss something?"

"Collins, what the hell was that about?" Roger asked. Collins looked around the room at the confused faces of all of his friends. He wanted to answer Roger's question, but he couldn't . . . Angel and his friends meant way too much to him. Angel stood up, but didn't go near him.

"Nothin'," he said. "Nothin', I just . . . Maureen and Joanne are here!" Collins walked toward Angel and grabbed her hand. "Let's go! The Life Café awaits!"

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	3. I Must Go On

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

Everyone, except Maureen and Joanne, spent a large portion of their brunch staring at Collins, whose attention was on Maureen while she told a pointless story. They all wanted to know what had caused the anarchist to behave the way he had at the loft. Maureen noticed that the rest of her friends weren't paying her any attention and instantly became annoyed.

"Okay, does someone wanna tell me and Pookie what we missed at the loft?" she asked. The rest of the bohemians, save Collins, exchanged looks.

"Nothin' out of the ordinary, Mo," Collins replied. "Keep goin' with your story."

"Something crazy _had _to have happened if everybody keeps looking at you. What'd you do, Collins?"

"Nothin'."

"'Nothing?'" Mimi repeated. "If that was 'nothing,' I'd hate to see _'something.'"_

"Took the words right out of my mouth, chica," Angel said.

"What the hell happened?" Maureen asked.

"Nothin' happened, Mo," Collins told her.

"Collins, you ripped the phone cord out of the fucking wall," Roger reminded his friend. "That's _not _'nothing.'" Maureen's jaw dropped and Joanne's eyes widened.

"He did?" Joanne asked in shock.

"Why?" Maureen added.

"That's what _we _wanna know," Angel replied. "Why _did_ you do it, honey?"

"Angel, just drop it, okay?" Collins said.

"I'm not gonna drop it. We all wanna know why you did it. Why can't you just tell us?"

"Does it have something to do with James Martin?" Mark asked. Collins visibly winced and refused to make eye contact with anyone. "Collins, did that guy do something to you?"

"Come on, Collins," Mimi said. "Tell us."

"Yeah, tell us!" Maureen chimed in. Collins closed his eyes and tried to tune out his friends' questions. He soon realized he couldn't and brought his fists down on the table.

"It's nobody's business but mine, so stay the fuck out of it!" he shouted. He stood up and headed toward the men's restroom. There, he punched the door of a stall before looking at himself in the mirror.

He glared at his reflection. He hated having to hide who he was. It was almost as if he was trying to come out to his mother all over again. His mother. James had said her cancer was back. She didn't have much time left. Questions that he was sure would be left without answers ran through his mind. How long had she been in the hospital? Exactly how long did she have to live? Would he and James have to take care of her medical bills again? Why did he even care? She never cared about him, so it was fair if he didn't care about her, right?

"Collins?" Mark had entered the restroom and interrupted Collins' thoughts. He turned to the filmmaker, who was cautiously making his way toward him. He had been elected by the rest of the bohemians to be the one to check on the anarchist. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mark," Collins replied.

"Are you sure? You seemed really angry."

"I just don't wanna be asked a thousand questions about this, okay?" Mark restrained himself from asking another question and simply nodded.

"I'll give you your privacy, but I can't really promise the same thing for the others," he replied. Collins sighed and turned back to the mirror. "Even though Angel told us about you yelling at her last night." Collins' attention quickly went back to Mark.

"She told ya'll about that?" he asked.

"Yeah. She said she'd never seen you so mad before. She thought you were gonna hit her."

"What?" Collins eyes were wide. "She knows I would never, _ever _do somethin' like that!"

"Yeah, but she said you just looked _that _mad when she listened to the message that James person left." Collins looked to the floor. "Why'd you tell me he didn't call you, Collins? Why are you avoiding this guy?"

"Didn't I just say I don't wanna be asked a thousand questions about this?" Collins was looking at Mark again and his eyes were narrowed.

"I'm sorry, but you can't do something like rip the cord to a phone out of a wall and expect not to be questioned about it."

"Just leave it alone, Mark." Collins walked past the filmmaker and left the restroom.

* * *

><p>"So, what do you want for dinner, honey?" Angel asked as she and Collins entered their apartment. These were the first words that were spoken between them since the left the Life Café.<p>

"Didn't we just come from brunch?" Collins replied, shutting the door of the apartment.

"Yeah, but I wanna make sure we have everything to make whatever it is you want."

"I'm not really sure what I want just yet."

"Well, when you figure it out . . . oh! I know!" Angel went to the kitchen and came back into the living room with a very dusty book.

"Ang, what is that?" Collins asked. Angel blew the dust off of the book and gave it to her lover.

"It's a vegetarian cook book," she stated rather proudly. Collins looked at the book then back at Angel. He raised an eyebrow. "Believe it or not, I dated a vegetarian before you." Collins chuckled and wiped some of the excess dust off of the book.

"And how long ago was this?"

"Around when I first got this apartment. I don't even think I remember his name." Collins chuckled again and sat down on the couch. "Now, you flip through that and pick out what you want."

"You gonna look through it with me?"

"Sure. Oh, wait. I think I have another one in the bedroom somewhere. I'll be right back." Angel left the room. Collins' eyes went to the answering machine. The light was blinking, reminding him that he hadn't erased the message from his brother yet. He stood up, crossed the room, and decided he'd better make sure there weren't any other messages before he completely erased everything on the machine. He pressed the play button and waited.

"_Hi, Professor, it's Carrie," _the voice of one of his students said. _"Um . . . you said to call you if we had any questions about the report on the philosopher we chose. I was wondering if you were going to deduct points for it being more than two pages. Mine's about three pages and if I don't think it'll be as powerful if I take anything out of it. I mean, I know you're kinda laid back about things like this, but I have to ask because I have another professor who's so strict about his assignment requirements he once failed someone because the staple in the pages was too close to the title of the report. Anyway, could you call me back when you get this message? I won't be able to sleep tonight if you don't. Bye."_

Collins chuckled at the last part of Carrie's message as the machine beeped and the next message started.

"_Uh . . . hey, guys," _Benny's voice said. _"I'll just get right to it. Allison has this design for a dress that she wants to wear to a banquet her father's being honored at and she can't find anyone she's willing to let make it. I told her about Angel and how he . . . she makes his . . . her own clothes. Allison said she remembered seeing him . . . her and she wants to know if he . . . dammit, she would be able to make it for her. I know you guys hate me, but if you could do this one thing for me, I'd be so grateful. Call me back."_

Collins rolled his eyes and waited for the next message.

"_Tom? Tom, it's me. I've been-" _Collins immediately pressed the button to delete the message the second he heard his brother's voice. The answering machine beeped and then there was silence. Collins was turning to go back to the couch when the phone rang. He stopped and stared at the answering machine as the phone continued to ring. Once it had stopped ringing, the answering machine beeped, the outgoing message played, and the message began.

"_Tom, I talked to your friend and he told me you unplugged his phone while he was talking to me," _James' voice came. _"What the hell's goin' on with you? Why won't you talk to me? Ma's dying, Sophie's worried sick about you." _Collins stopped himself from stepping toward the phone. _"I mean, literally worried sick. Pick up the phone, Tom. I'm not hanging up the phone until you do." _Collins sighed and picked up the phone. He knew his brother would actually stay on the line until he talked to him.

"What do you want James?" he said.

"_Tom, I've been tryin' to find you forever," _James replied. _"Why've you been avoiding me?"_

"I don't wanna have a conversation with you. I want you to tell me what you want and then I want you to leave me alone."

"_We need to talk, Tom."_

"And what exactly do we need to talk about?"

"_Everything. We need to talk about Darrell, our pact, Mom-"_

"I don't wanna talk about Darrell, our pact, _or _Mom. I don't even wanna _think _about all that. I'm trying to move on, James! I'm trying to leave the past behind me! I _have _to for the sake of my friends and the love of my life!"

"Tom-"

"No! Is that all you wanted with me? 'Cause if it is, I'm hangin' up now." There was a silence. Angel was around the corner listening to every word Collins had spoken.

"_She's dying, Tom," _James finally said. Tears burned Collins' eyes and he tightened his grip on the phone receiver.

"So the fuck am I," he replied angrily. He slammed the phone down without waiting for his brother to reply.

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	4. Brother Mine

**Here is the next one! Enjoy it!**

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

James continued to call for the next few days. Each time he did, Collins picked up the phone and immediately hung it up again. He thought maybe his brother would get the hint that he didn't want to talk to him, but James was persistent. Collins made sure Mark, Roger, or anyone else who spent time at the loft didn't tell James where he lived. He didn't have to threaten any of his friends. All he had to do was give them a stern look. Despite their curiosity about what would happen if one of them _was _to give Collins' address to James, they restrained themselves.

On Friday, Collins entered his and Angel's apartment after his last class of the day to find his lover talking on the phone.

"Okay, honey," she was saying. "We'll see you soon." Angel hung up the phone as Collins walked over to her.

"Ang, who were you talkin' to?" he asked.

"Joanne." Collins sighed in relief. "She got a promotion today and she wants to take us all out to dinner to celebrate!"

"Oh, well good for her!"

"I know! And she's taking us to a really fancy restaurant, so we have to dress formally." Angel stared at Collins for a moment. "I'm thinking a nice button-down shirt for you and a dress for me."

"Your little, black dress?"

"No. I think I'll wear my blue dress."

"Aw, but I _like _your little, black dress. It's _sexy_." Collins wrapped his arms around Angel's waist and pulled her close to him. "You should wear it."

"Honey, if I bend over in that dress, you can see my ass," Angel reminded her boyfriend. Collins smirked and slid his hands from Angel's waist to her rear.

"And that's _exactly _why I like it," he replied, giving his lover's buttocks a squeeze. Angel giggled and moved Collins' hands back to her waist.

"I'm not wearing it to dinner, but I'll put it on afterwards just for you," she promised, causing Collins to grin widely. "I think your good button-down shirt is in the dryer. I'll go get it and iron it."

"Alright," Collins said, taking his hands off of Angel's waist. "I'm gonna jump in the shower."

"I'll join you in a little bit." Collins smiled. "Oh . . . I'm supposed to tell you that since the restaurant is really classy . . . you can't wear your beanie."

"What?" Collins placed his hands on top of his head. "Baby, I hardly _ever _take my beanie off."

"I know, honey, but Joanne wants you to take it off."

"No!"

"Collins, it's _just _dinner. You can survive without your beanie for that long, can't you?"

"I'm not takin' it off and you can't make me!" Collins quickly left the room. Angel rolled her eyes and walked through the kitchen to get to the small laundry room. There, she opened the dryer and pulled a blue button-down shirt out of the middle of the heap of clothes. As she walked back to the living room, the phone rang. Thinking it would be Joanne again, she answered it.

"Hello?" she said pleasantly. There was a silence.

"_Who is this?" _It was Collins' brother. Angel almost dropped the phone.

"You called _here_, didn't you?"

"_I'm sorry. I was just expectin' to hear Tom's voice. I'm his brother. My name's James."_

"I'm Angel. Um . . . can I help you?"

"_Could you convince Tom to talk to me?"_

"I'm sorry, honey, I don't think I can. The only way to get him to do that is if you meet with him in person." Angel suddenly got an idea. "And I know just how you can do that."

"_How?"_

"We're going out to dinner with our friends. You could . . . meet us at the restaurant and Collins would have no choice but to talk to you." Angel felt a bit guilty for what she was doing, but something told her it was the right thing to do. James was silent and Angel waited patiently for him to respond.

"_Tell me more."_

* * *

><p>"Jesus!" Roger exclaimed, staring at his menu after he and his friends ordered their drinks. "Even the <em>water <em>here is expensive! Joanne, how the hell are you gonna afford dinner for all of us?"

"Pookie's promotion came with a big raise!" Maureen told him excitedly.

"Maureen, you promised you'd be calm," Joanne said. She couldn't help smiling at her girlfriend.

"I know, but I'm just _so _proud!" Maureen kissed Joanne on the cheek and the lawyer giggled. "I love you, Joanne."

"I love you too, Maureen."

"God, I can't even _pronounce _half these meals," Roger said, pulling on his tie while he looked through his menu.

"If you can't pronounce it, it's probably not a good idea to order it, honey," Angel told him.

"Good advice, chica," Mimi replied. Roger nodded and continued pulling on his tie. "Roger, why do you keep doing that?"

"I _hate _this tie!" Roger exclaimed. "It's _so _uncomfortable!"

"Then why did you wear it?" Mark asked.

"Mimi made me wear it!"

"It's a classy restaurant, Roger," Mimi said. "I wanted you to look nice."

"But Collins doesn't have to wear a tie!"

"I don't _own _a tie," Collins pointed out. "Even if I did, I wouldn't need it to look good. What I _do _need is my beanie." The anarchist felt the top of his head. Angel pulled his hand away from his head and held it.

"You'll survive dinner without it, honey," she told him.

"But, baby, I feel so . . . _naked_ without it." Angel giggled and kissed Collins on the cheek.

Their waiter then came to the table carrying two trays. Seven salads were on one tray and the friends' drinks were on the other. The waiter distributed the salads and drinks before asking the bohemians if they were ready to order their meals. Joanne looked around at her friends, who were studying their menus, and told the waiter that they would need a little more time. Roger managed to pull his tie off as the waiter walked away from their table.

"Ha-ha!" he exclaimed, holding the tie tight in his fist. "Success!"

"Victory, thy name is Roger!" Collins said, holding up his glass. Roger picked up his glass as well and clinked it with Collins'.

"Roger!" Mimi cried, taking the tie out of Roger's hand as he and Collins placed their drinks back on the table.

"Honey, he looks fine without the tie," Angel told her friend.

"Do you know how much it took for me to get this thing _on_ him? I had to chase him around the loft for twenty minutes and when I finally caught him, I had to sit on him to hold him still! It was _such _a pain in the ass!"

"Bein' a pain in the ass it one of Roger's specialties," Collins commented, smiling at the rocker, who flipped him off. A different waiter than the one that introduced himself as the bohemians' server for the evening tapped Collins on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir," he said as Collins turned to face him. He held a folded piece of paper out to the anarchist. "This is from the man at a table behind me."

"Directly behind you?" Collins asked, taking the paper.

"No." The waiter stepped to the side and pointed. "That table over there." There was indeed a man at the table the waiter pointed out. He and Collins locked eyes as the waiter walked away from the table. He instantly recognized the man. It was James. He decided to pretend he didn't know who he was so his friends wouldn't ask questions. He slowly turned back to the table and placed the paper next to his glass.

"Aren't you gonna read it, Collins?" Mark asked.

"Nah," Collins replied.

"I think you should," Joanne said. "The man just got up." Collins quickly spun around to see James walking toward the table and let out a sigh of relief when he walked out the door. He turned back to the table while his friends continued to stare at the door.

"Well, that was creepy," Maureen commented. She suddenly grabbed the paper and unfolded it.

"Maureen!" Collins exclaimed. The rest of the bohemians' attention went to Maureen.

"Honey, give Collins the paper back," Joanne said.

"'We need to talk?'" Maureen read. "Was that guy an exboyfriend or something, Collins?"

"Gimmie that!" Collins demanded, snatching the paper out of Maureen's hand. He immediately tore it up.

"Wow," Roger said. "He really must've been an exboyfriend."

"He _was not _an exboyfriend."

"Well, who was he?" Mark asked. Collins shrugged and picked up his glass again.

Collins spent the duration of dinner glancing over his shoulder to make sure James hadn't come back into the restaurant and steering the conversation away from the note he'd received. After the bohemians walked out of the restaurant once they'd had dessert and Joanne paid the bill, the lawyer took her cell phone out of her purse and announced she was calling for a taxi van to take them all home.

"Tom," a voice called to Collins. The bohemians turned to where the voice had come from and watched as James walked toward them, a lit cigarette in his hand.

"That's the guy who gave Collins the note," Maureen whispered to Joanne. Collins wanted to run.

"Your voice sounds really familiar," Mark said to James when he reached the group of friends. James dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it.

"So does yours," he replied. He then looked to Collins. "Are you ready to talk now?"

"We already talked," Collins retorted.

"No, we didn't. I told you what I wanted to talk about and you hung up on me." Collins looked away from James. "You can't run from your past, Tom. You _need_ to come with me to see Mom."

"I don't _want _to see Mom."

"She's dying of cancer, Tom." Collins brought his attention back to James and glared at him.

"And _I'm_ dying of AIDS," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Guess whose fault that is?"

"Don't. Just don't."

"You _know _it's her fault, James!"

"It _is not_ her fault, Tom! You getting AIDS was out of anybody's control!"

"And I just so happened to get it after doing something _she _told me to do?" James fell silent. "Every single time I take my AZT, I think about how much I hate her!"

"There have been times where I felt like I hated her too, Tom, but I know it's just unnecessary anger," James replied.

"That's easy for _you _to say! You're her golden child!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what the fuck it means, James! She loves you more than me! She always has!"

"That's not true and you know it." Collins didn't say anything. "Why'd you break the pact, Tom? Darrell-"

"You know what?" Collins interrupted. "The answer to every last question you could possibly ask me right now is this: I want to leave the past in the past. Okay? I don't want anything to do with Mom, Darrell, that stupid pact, _or _you. Just stay the fuck out of my life." Collins turned to face his friends, who were staring at him in slight shock, just as the taxi van arrived. He grabbed Angel's hand and he and his friends started walking toward the van.

"So, you don't care about Sophie?" James called to his brother. Collins stopped walking and turned to face him.

"That's not fair," he said.

"Well, you said you want to leave the past in the past. And you don't seem to care about anything _in_ your past." James walked toward Collins. "That has to mean you don't care about Sophie, right?"

"Leave Sophie out of this, okay? She's different."

"You mean, she's an exception."

"No, she's just different."

"How?"

"She's the only person who didn't make my life hell every given opportunity. She cared about me."

"And _I _didn't?" Collins stared at James for a moment before looking at the ground. "Hello?"

"You _stopped _caring about me," Collins said softly.

"What the hell are you talkin' about? How did I-"

"You weren't _there_, James!" Collins interrupted. He was glaring at James as his tears threatened to spill over. "You weren't there when I needed you the most! You weren't there when Darrell told them to hold me down! You weren't there when they tied me to the bed! You weren't fucking there!"

"What? When did . . . what did they do to you, Tom?" Tears began streaming down Collins' face. James pulled his younger brother into a hug. "Tell me what they did." Collins slipped out of the hug.

"Get the fuck off of me!" he shouted, pushing James away from him. "I never want to see you again! Just stay away from me!" Collins got into the van. The rest of the bohemians followed him and Joanne gave the driver a list of their addresses.

No one said a word as the van pulled away from the restaurant.

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	5. No One Knows Who I Am

**This chapter . . . this chapter right here . . .**

**I own nothing. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

The walk to the apartment Angel and Collins shared was a silent one. Every once in a while, Angel would look over at her lover, who was staring at the ground. She could tell the run-in with James wasn't as good for him as she'd thought it might be. She'd thought telling James where they were going to be was the right thing to do at the time, but now, seeing Collins so upset, she wished she could go back and undo the damage. They reached their apartment and just stared at the door. Angel took the key out of her purse and gently took Collins' hand before unlocking and opening the door. She walked in ahead of him and he slipped his hand out of hers as she shut the door. He walked over to the couch, sat down, and stared at one spot on the floor in front of him.

"Collins?" Angel said, walking toward the couch. She sat down next to Collins and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Honey, are you gonna be okay?" Collins shrugged and remained silent. "Can I get you anything? Like ice cream?" Collins shook his head. "Do you wanna make love?" Collins hesitated and then shook his head again. "You just wanna be alone right now, don't you?" Collins nodded and Angel took her hand off of his shoulder. "Then, I'll just . . . go to the loft for a little while."

Angel stood up, walked toward the door, opened it, and took one last look at Collins before stepping out into the hallway.

* * *

><p>"You offered him sex and he <em>still <em>didn't snap out of it?" Mimi asked Angel. The drag queen, who was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, nodded.

"It's all my fault," she replied.

"Angel, you had no control over Collins' brother finding him," Roger said. Angel looked down at her hands. "Things like this just happen."

"No, Roger. While Collins and I were getting ready for dinner, James called."

"And you answered the phone?" Mark asked. His tone sounded like a five-year-old who'd just witnessed a sibling get a cookie after being told not to or they'd spoil their dinner.

"I thought it was Joanne," Angel explained. "And once I figured out it wasn't, I couldn't just hang up. That's rude."

"You should've lied and said Collins wasn't there or something," Roger said.

"I know. I'm so stupid!" Angel held her head in her hands. Mimi got off of the couch and walked over to Angel.

"You're _not _stupid," she told her friend, lifting her head. "You just thought whatever the problem was between Collins and his brother would be resolved if they talked. You were just caring for your boyfriend and his one family member that we know about."

"Now that you mention it, why the hell _don't _we know anything about Collins' family?" Mark asked. "I mean, we didn't even know he had a brother until a few days ago."

"You're right," Roger replied. "Angel, has Collins ever mentioned anything about his family to you?" Angel shook her head.

"Maybe he's ashamed of his family," Mimi guessed. "Or his family's ashamed of _him_."

"Well, I don't wanna ask him about all this alone," Angel said. "Mark, could you come with me and possibly spend the night?"

"Uh, sure," Mark told her.

"Wait, _I'm _your best friend," Mimi pointed out.

"I know, chica, but I don't wanna take you away from Roger," Angel replied. Mimi smiled at her and went back to sit with Roger on the couch.

"We'll have the _whole loft _to ourselves," Roger said as Mimi sat on his lap.

"Stay out of my room!" Mark shouted. "I mean it! If I come back and see the sheets on my bed have changed, I'm gonna kill you two!" Mimi and Roger shared a laugh.

After Mark went to his room to take off his button-down shirt and put a change of clothes and his camera in a small duffel bag, he slipped on his jacket and scarf and was soon walking out of the building. They walked instinctively closer to each other when they saw four large men leaning on a car ahead of them. As they walked past the men, they heard them whispering. Angel was then grabbed by her arm and Mark immediately stopped walking.

"Where are you headed, pretty lady?" the man who had grabbed Angel asked. Angel whimpered and began trying to break out of his grasp.

"Let her go!" Mark said, trying his best to sound more intimidating than he actually was. One of the other men laughed and gave Mark a hard shove, causing him to drop his bag.

"What're _you _gonna do if he doesn't?" he asked.

"I bet he's just jealous 'cause he's not getting any attention," another said, walking toward the filmmaker. Mark took a step backward only to run into the fourth man, who took his jacket off of him and pushed him to ground. He cut his arm on the curb.

"Leave him alone!" Angel cried, trying to get to Mark. The man that was holding her by her arm slammed her against the car. She saw Mark get pinned to the ground as his T-shirt was ripped off of him by the man who had pushed him on the ground before the man pinning her against the car turned her attention to him.

"You're not going anywhere," he told her. He kissed her neck and slowly began sliding his hands up her dress. Suddenly, there was a gunshot and everything stopped as everyone turned toward where the shot came from. Mark and Angel instantly recognized James, who had a gun in his hand.

"Let them go," he demanded. He walked a few steps toward the men and his brother's terrified friends.

"Who the hell are you?" the man who had Mark on the ground asked.

"Don't worry about who I am. Let them go or a bullet is goin' through every last one of your heads."

"You're bluffing," the man who had Angel against the car said. James then shot his gun again, hitting the man in the arm. A cry of pain came from him as he released Angel.

"That was your only warning," James told all four of the men. "Now, get the hell outta here, before I have to kill you." The four men quickly left. Angel rushed to Mark and knelt beside him as James pocketed his gun and walked toward them.

"Are you okay, Mark?" Angel asked, helping her friend sit up. His eyes were wide with horror.

"I've never been so scared in my entire life," he replied. James picked up Mark's jacket before helping Angel help him to his feet. Angel took the jacket from James and put it on Mark.

"Thank you for saving us," Angel said.

"Ya'll shouldn't be out here so late," James told her as he picked Mark's bag up.

"We were going back to my place." Angel put an arm around Mark. He looked paler than he usually did.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you let me walk you back to your place? Just for protection?"

"That would be great."

Angel led the way to the apartment she shared with Collins. No one said anything while they walked. Mark periodically shivered whenever they passed a group of people. When the three of them finally arrived at the apartment, Angel took the key out of her purse and unlocked the door. James opened it and Angel helped Mark inside. Collins, who was sitting on the couch reading, looked to the door and immediately stood up. A mixture of anger and worry flowed through him as he processed the images of his brother and his lover helping a terrified looking Mark into the apartment.

"What the hell are _you _doin' here?" he asked James.

"Honey, don't yell at him," Angel pleaded, taking Mark's jacket off. "He saved us." Collins' eyes widened at the sight of Mark's ripped shirt and bleeding arm.

"What happened?"

"There were four of them," Mark said quietly. "They were gonna . . ." He didn't finish. Collins turned to James.

"They had him on the ground and her pinned to a car," James told his brother as he placed Mark's bag on the floor. Angel hung Mark's jacket up.

"Come on, honey," she said to him. "Let's get that arm cleaned up and find you a different shirt." She led Mark toward the bathroom, leaving Collins and James alone. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"Thanks for helpin' them," Collins finally said. James nodded.

"No problem," he replied. Collins then went back to the couch and sat down. "Tom . . . _please _tell me what happened to you when I wasn't around. Tell me so I can help you deal with it."

"It doesn't matter now." James walked over to the couch and sat next to Collins. He placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Tom-"

"It doesn't matter!" Collins interrupted, shrugging James' hand off of his shoulder. "It's over!" A few tears escaped Collins' eyes. "It's over . . ."

"They didn't . . . rape you, did they?" Collins shook his head violently and James sighed in relief. "Then, what happened?" Collins tried his best to push the memory out of his mind, but he couldn't. It was too vivid. Almost like it happened recently.

"You were gone," he said. "You were out selling and I was at home with Mom. Leon and Jerome came by and said Darrell wanted to talk to me, so I went with them." Collins paused for a moment. "When we got to Darrell's place, they took me to his bed room. He was in there with two other guys I'd never seen before and he looked at me . . . then he looked at them and said, 'You know what to do.' That scared me 'cause I had no idea what he was talkin' about. That's when the two guys took my shirt of." More tears fell. "Leon and Jerome forced me to lie on the bed and held me down while the other two tied me to it. I fought until Darrell put a gun to my head. Then he picked up a briefcase, opened it, and took a . . . a loaded needle out of it. He walked over to the bed, looked at me, and said, 'This is a little somethin' I made. I'm gonna test it on you and you're gonna tell me what you feel.'" Even more tears fell. "He . . . used me as a fucking guinea pig. Every time he mixed somethin' up, he tested it on me."

"Tom . . . why didn't you tell me?" James asked. Collins wiped his tears away angrily.

"Mom told me . . . not to bother you with it." A silence passed between them. "He's the cause of my overdose." Collins closed his eyes. "And what the fuck did I do the second I got out of the hospital?"

"You went straight for the needle."

"You didn't stop me."

"It's how we bonded, Tom." James then reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a case that was slightly bigger than a travel sized sewing kit. He opened it and Collins studied its contents.

Four small bags of heroin. Two small vials of water. Two empty needles. A tourniquet, maybe half the length of a regular one.

"_Now?"_ Collins asked his brother. He kept his eyes on the items in the case.

"You don't mind, do you?" James replied, taking a needle out of the case. He pulled the plunger and placed that and the barrel on the arm of the couch. He then took one of the bags of heroin out of the case and opened it before picking up the barrel of the needle up and pouring the drug into it. Collins stared as James dumped one of the vials of water into the barrel and replaced the plunger. James smiled at Collins as he shook the needle a bit and put it on his lap. He then took his arm out of one of the sleeves of his jacket.

"James . . . why do you carry that around with you?" Collins asked as James tied the tourniquet around his arm.

"You never know when you're gonna need a hit," James replied, picking up the needle. He made a fist, stuck the needle in his arm, and pushed on the plunger. Collins watched as the drug worked its magic on his brother. A part of him wanted to feel the high again.

_No,_ he thought. _That stage of my life is over. But still . . ._

His thoughts were interrupted when James held the now empty needle out to him. He stared at it longingly before pushing James' hand away.

"I'm done with that," he said. James chuckled as he took the tourniquet off of his arm.

"Sure you are, Tom," James replied. He put the needle, the tourniquet, and the empty vial back in their places in the case. The empty bag went in his pants pocket.

"I really am." James continued to chuckle as he zipped the case and put it beside him on the couch. Angel and Mark then walked back into the room. Mark had gauze wrapped around his arm and was wearing one of Angel's white T-shirts.

"Well, I better head out," James said, putting his arm back in the sleeve of his jacket. He stood up and looked at Collins. "I'll call you soon." He then walked out of the apartment.

"How ya doin', Mark?" Collins asked as Mark sat down next to him.

"Okay, I guess," Mark replied.

"He's gonna stay here tonight," Angel said. "Is that okay?" Collins nodded. Mark then noticed James' case and picked it up.

"What's this?" he asked. Collins' eyes widened.

"Son-of-a-bitch," he said. He took the case from Mark.

"What is it, honey?" Angel asked.

"It belongs to James. Bastard probably left it here so he has a reason to come back."

"Honey, he's your brother. Why do you hate him so much?"

"I have my reasons. I'll be right back." Collins stood up and headed for the bedroom. He stopped as soon as he got to the door and stared at the case before going to the bathroom and locking the door. He put the lid of the toilet down and opened the case. After staring at the items inside for a long while, he quickly prepared a needle and tied the tourniquet around his arm. He injected the drug into his body and immediately felt the high. With the high came memories.

Leaving his hometown at three. His mother being diagnosed with cancer. Coming out. Meeting Darrell. Selling. Using. Meeting Sophie. Comforting her. Hugging her. Kissing her. Loving her. Wanting a way out and desperately trying to find one. Running. The pact. Changing his name. Lying about who he was. Lying about his past. Lying about everything. He was sick of the lies, but he knew if the truth were out, he'd lose his job. He'd lose his friends. He'd lose Angel.

"No one knows who I am," he whispered to himself. It was a painful truth he'd had to live with for years. A tear ran down his cheek when he noticed the needle was still in his arm. No one knew who he was.

And at that moment, neither did he.

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	6. Am I The Face Of The Past?

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

Collins couldn't sleep. There were too many memories cluttering his mind. He wished they would leave him alone. That James would stay out of his life. That his mother would stop using her illness to get him to do whatever she wanted. He couldn't close his eyes without picturing her in a hospital bed, withering away while asking James when he was coming to see her. He then looked over at Angel and saw that the moonlight that came through the window was shining on her sleeping face. Slowly and gently, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Then he saw it. A bruise was forming on his arm where he'd given in to temptation. He stared at it in disgust. There was no way he was getting any sleep now.

The next morning, Collins asked Angel to call in sick to work for him. She didn't think he looked sick at all, but she completely understood if he just needed a mental health day. Once she made the call, she made breakfast and brought some to him after serving Mark.

"I'm not hungry right now," Collins told her. He was lying on the bed with his back to her. She looked at him lovingly.

"Well, I'll just put it here and you can eat it when you _are _hungry," she said, placing the plate of food and glass of orange juice on the night stand. She then kissed her lover on the cheek. "I'm gonna step out for some groceries, okay?" Collins rolled over to face her.

"You're leavin'?" He sounded like a small child. Angel giggled and kissed his forehead.

"Only for a little while," she said. "And Mark will still be here." Collins sighed and nodded as Angel left the room. He rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. Every few minutes, he would lift his bruised arm and stare at it, wondering why he'd been so weak. Mark entered the room after Angel had been gone for about a half hour.

"Hey, Collins," he said. Collins turned his head toward Mark. "How are you this morning?"

"I want you to know, you're terrible at small talk," Collins replied, sitting up and letting his feet hang over the side of the bed.

"I wasn't really trying to make small talk. I was asking an actual question. How are you this morning after whatever happened with your brother after dinner?"

"I'm fine, Mark." Collins looked away from Mark and focused on the now cold plate of food Angel had put on the night stand. He didn't see Mark walk over to the dresser and pick up James' case.

"Are you gonna take this back to him, or is he coming to get it?" he asked as he unzipped the case. Hearing the zipper of the case, Collins quickly looked back at Mark just as the filmmaker opened it. He leapt off the bed and practically ran across the room. "You're brother's a-"

"Don't worry about it," Collins interrupted, snatching the case out of Mark's hand and zipping it back up.

"That must be why you never mentioned you had a brother. It's because he's a junkie. Have you tried getting him help or . . ." Mark stopped talking as Collins reached past him to put the case back on the dresser. He grabbed his friend's arm and stared at the bruise. His eyes went wide. "Collins . . ."

"Mark, before you say anything-"

"What the _fuck _is wrong with you?" Mark interrupted. Collins snatched his arm away.

"It's nothin' you need to concern yourself with, Mark," Collins told him.

"Nothing I need to . . . Collins, why the hell would do this to yourself? Does that thing really belong to James, or did you make that up to cover up the fact that it's _yours_?"

"It's really his and you're makin' this a bigger deal than it actually is."

"No, I'm not, Collins! You _know _how much stress we were under trying to take care of Roger when he was . . . and now you're . . . I can't even look at you right now! I'm going to find Angel." Mark left the room and Collins ran after him, catching him by his arm in the hallway.

"Mark, you _can't _tell Angel," he said. "You just can't."

"Collins, I can't keep something like this from her!" Mark shouted. "What you did . . . that's not you! That's not who you are! God! _Why _would you do something so stupid?" Collins glared at Mark and let go of his arm.

"You have no right to judge me," he told Mark. "You don't know what I've done, what I've been through. You don't even know who I am."

"I've known you for years, Collins."

"That's just it. You know Collins. You don't know _one damn thing _about Tom. You don't know what Tom's about, but you need to know this: if provoked, Tom can snap your neck." Collins' eyes flashed with anger. It was then that he noticed he was still holding James' case. "When Angel gets back, tell her I went to find James and give this back to him." He backed Mark into a wall. "And that better be _all _you tell her."

* * *

><p>After Collins had gotten dressed, he walked to Central Park and sat on a bench. He had no idea where James was and there was no use in him pretending he did. He was just glad to be away from Mark and his assumptions. Mostly because his assumptions were undoubtedly right. Temptation began to slowly consume him as he looked at the case in his hand. He touched the zipper, but forced himself not to open it. Temptation wasn't going to win. Not this time.<p>

A girl sat down next to him. He felt her staring at him, but he refused to make eye contact with her. He wanted to be left alone.

"Whatcha' got there?" the girl asked. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and her tone was needy.

"Nothin'," Collins replied, still staring at the case.

"You got any money on you?"

"No."

"Not even a dollar?"

"No."

"A quarter?"

"I don't have any money. Stop asking."

"What's in there then? It looks like a wallet."

"It's not a wallet. Leave me alone."

"Open it." Collins fell silent and slowly opened the case. He stared at its contents and quickly shut it when his desire to feel the high he'd felt the previous night came back. "You wanna share that?" Collins zipped the case and looked at the girl, who was staring at it.

"No, I don't wanna share it," he told her sternly. "I wanna take it back to its owner and get it out of my life. Who are you anyway?"

"Just a stranger," the girl replied. "And it's too bad you don't wanna share." The girl looked up at him. "I'd do _anything _for a hit right about now." Collins felt his heart break as he looked into her eyes. He recognized them anywhere. He knew this girl.

"Sophie?" He studied her. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her clothes were torn in some places. Beads of sweat formed on her light brown skin. She'd lost a tremendous amount of weight. She was shaking, not much, but enough for Collins to notice it.

"You know me?" Sophie asked. Collins placed a hand on the side of her face.

"Sophie, it's me." Sophie squinted at him. Collins didn't understand how she couldn't remember him. He'd never forget _her._

"Oh my God. Tom?" Collins nodded and Sophie immediately trapped him in a hug. He returned the hug gently, in fear that he would hurt her frail body. "I haven't seen you in . . . God, how long has it been?"

"Too long, Sophie. _Way_ too long." Collins released her from the hug and just looked at her. He wanted to cry. "Sophie . . . what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know _exactly _what I mean. The last time I saw you, you said you were quitting." Sophie looked down at her hands.

"I'm not as strong as you, Tom," she said quietly. "I couldn't do it. I tried really hard, but I just couldn't do it. Not without you with me." Collins looked away from her. "We made a pact. We said we'd meet in Queens in two years, but you never showed up. I was so scared. I thought you died. Then James said he talked to a friend of yours and he gave him your number. And when you didn't answer or call back . . . I thought Darrell got to you. Why'd you break the pact, Tom?"

"I just . . . couldn't go through with it," Collins admitted. "I couldn't step back into the past." Sophie slid closer to him and tapped the case.

"Then why do you have this?" she asked. Collins looked down at the case.

"It's not mine," he replied, still staring at it. "It belongs to James."

"Really? You've seen him?"

"He found my apartment yesterday, came by, and left this. I think he did it on purpose." Sophie slipped the case out of Collins' hand. He watched as she slowly opened it and ran her index finger over the barrel of one of the needles.

"I could take it to him," she said. Collins took the case back and closed it.

"If temptation can drive _me _to use this, I can only imagine what it can do to _you_," he told Sophie as he zipped the case. Sophie tilted her head to one side.

"What are you saying?" she asked. Collins sighed, put the case down next to him, took his left arm out of the sleeve of his coat, and lifted the sleeve of his shirt. Sophie gasped softly and slowly ran her fingers across Collins' bruise.

"I'm not as strong as you think I am," Collins said.

"You're in pain," Sophie replied. "That's what you told me when you helped me shoot up for the first time. You said you only do this when you're hurting." She pressed a soft kiss to the bruise before looking up at Collins. "Who hurt you, Tom?"

"Nobody. It's just . . . seeing James again after all these years."

"It's the memories, isn't it? The memories that James brought with him when he came to your apartment are what hurt you." Collins looked into Sophie's eyes. They held nothing but love.

"You know me too well," he said, putting his shirt sleeve back down. He put his arm back into the sleeve of his coat and stood up.

"Do you want me to take you to where James is?" Sophie asked, standing up as well. Collins simply nodded and let Sophie take his hand. She led him through streets and alleyways he didn't even know existed. As they walked, Collins took note of how many people were doing some type of drug. His mind wandered back to a time when _he _was one of those people.

When they reached a rundown apartment building, Sophie pulled him inside. They walked to the fourth door on the first floor and Sophie knocked.

"Sophie, where are we?" Collins asked.

"Where the junkies come to play," Sophie answered. A few moments passed before a man answered the door.

"Sophie!" he exclaimed, pulling the girl into a hug. He then noticed Collins was with her and ended the hug. "Who's he?"

"A friend of mine," Sophie said. "He's James' brother." The man's eyes widened. "Is James here?"

"Yeah. Get in here." The man pulled Sophie and Collins inside. He then disappeared into one of the rooms in the apartment. Clouds of cigarette smoke filled the room and there were too many people to count sprawled out on furniture and the floor. Some of the people were shooting up, others were smoking or snorting.

"What kind of place is this?" Collins asked Sophie quietly.

"I already told you, Tom," Sophie replied. The man who had invited them in suddenly emerged from the room he'd gone in with James right behind him.

"Well, I'll be damned," James said. "My little brother came to visit me." Collins could tell he was high, but he wasn't quite sure what he was on. He held his arms out for a hug and Collins pushed him away.

"Don't touch me," he demanded, holding James' case out to him.

"Why, thank you!" James took his case and opened it. He then looked at Collins and smiled. "Looks like I'm missin' some things." Collins looked away from James, who laughed. "I _knew _you couldn't stay away. Did you come here to have a good time?"

"No. I came to give you that back and then go on with my life."

"You're leaving?" Sophie asked. She sounded so disappointed. Collins took her hand in his and kissed it gently.

"I have to. There's just . . . too many memories and-"

"You don't want to give into temptation again?" Sophie guessed. Collins kissed her forehead.

"I told you, you know me too well," he said.

"Will I see you again?" Collins looked into Sophie's eyes. She seemed sad. He wanted to tell her she'd see him soon, but he knew that wasn't likely.

"I don't know, Sophie. I just don't know." As he walked to the door to leave, Sophie grabbed his arm.

"Please, don't go, Tom."

"I have to."

"Stay. At least for a little while. Please, Tom?" Collins knew he had to get back to Angel, but something in him told him he _should _stay. He decided to listen to that part of him, mostly because he wanted to try to get Sophie to stop using.

"Okay," he said. "Just for a little while."

* * *

><p>Collins had only planned to stay for an hour or so, but between getting caught up in the conversation he was having with Sophie and once again giving in to his desires even though he did his best to fight them, hours flew by. It was around 8:30 p.m. by the time he was heading back to his apartment. He was sure Angel would be worried sick about him, and maybe even a little angry. Especially if she found out what he'd done. He attempted to think of an excuse as to why he'd been out so long, but his mind was so clouded he didn't think he'd be able to form a sentence.<p>

When he reached the door of the apartment, he hesitated before opening it.

As he stepped into the apartment, he immediately saw Mimi sitting on the couch with Angel, holding her hand. Roger was sitting on the arm of the couch watching them. All three of them looked to Collins when they heard the door open. Collins noticed Angel had been crying and dropped his coat, which he'd carried home, onto the floor. After he shut the door, he took a few steps toward the couch.

"What's goin' on?" he asked. Roger and Mimi were glaring at him, but he wasn't focused on them at the moment. He was more concerned with why Angel's face was tearstained. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Collins . . . where have you been?" Angel asked, letting go of Mimi's hand and slowly standing up. Her eyes told Collins she was hurt and he was sure he was the cause of it.

"I was . . . trying to find James." Angel walked to Collins, took his left hand, and lifted his sleeve. There were new bruises just like the one Collins had discovered the previous night. Angel gasped and immediately dropped Collins' hand. He pulled the sleeve back down. "Angel-"

"I didn't want to believe it," Angel interrupted. "But now . . . I can't believe you'd do something like this, Collins." Angel went back to the couch and sat with Mimi, who held her.

"Mark told you," Collins guessed, anger starting to boil in him. Roger then stood up.

"No," he said, walking toward Collins. "Mark did what you said to do. When Angel came home, he told her you went to find James to give him his stuff back. Then he came back to the loft and I asked him what was wrong because he looked so upset. He told me about the case and about what you did. I asked him if he told Angel and he told me that you threatened to snap his neck if he did, so I told Mimi. Mimi's the one who told Angel, not Mark." Roger looked straight into Collins' eyes. "And I _dare_ you to lay one finger on her."

"Look, Roger-"

"What the _hell _did you do this for?" Roger interrupted angrily. "You've seen what drugs did to me and April! Drugs _will not _help you through whatever it is you're going through, Collins!"

"Says the man who's dating a junkie," Collins replied dryly.

"Leave Mimi out of this! I'm gonna help her quit, but how am I supposed to do that when I know someone else I care about is starting to use?"

"What makes you think I'm _just now _starting?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it."

"I'm not gonna forget it, Collins! You're gonna explain yourself _right now_!" Collins shoved the rocker.

"I don't have to fucking explain myself to you, Roger!" he shouted.

"Then explain yourself to _me_, Collins," Angel said softly. Collins looked to her. "Why did you do it, honey?" Collins opened his mouth to say something, but shut it. "Collins?"

"Are you gonna answer her?" Mimi asked. Her voice had an angry tone to it. Roger glared at Collins as if he could somehow make him speak.

"I . . . can't tell you, Angel," Collins replied.

"Then why are we together?" Angel whispered. Collins walked past Roger and stared at Angel, who was looking at the floor.

"What did you say?" Angel slowly looked up at Collins and tried her best not to cry.

"We promised we wouldn't keep secrets from each other," she said. "I've told you _everything _there is to know about me, but you . . . you have this whole past I know _nothing _about. You told me you were an only child, then I find out you have a brother! You used heroin _in this apartment_, but you won't tell me why! And you keep throwing the names Darrell and Sophie around, but I know if I ask who they are, you won't tell me! I don't even know who you are anymore, Collins! Tell me this: why are we together if you can't fucking trust me? _I _trust _you!_"

"Angel . . . you have _no idea _how much I wanna tell you everything about my past," Collins told her. "But I just . . . can't. You mean too much to me."

"What does that mean?" Collins fell silent and looked away from Angel. "You know what? I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending I'm fine with you having all these secrets and not trusting me with them." Angel was on the verge of tears.

"Angel, what are you saying?"

"I'm gonna stay with Mimi for a while. You need some time alone."

"Are you . . . breaking up with me?"

"I'm not sure." Angel stood up and started walking to the bedroom. Collins grabbed her arm. She stopped walking. "Collins-"

"Angel, you _can't _leave me," Collins interrupted. "You just _can't. _Please, stay with me." Angel gently pulled Collins' hand off of her arm.

"I have to go." Angel quickly made her way to the bedroom with Collins right behind her. Roger and Mimi followed them to make sure nothing violent happened. Angel took a small suitcase out of the closet, opened it, and placed it on the bed.

"Angel . . . _please _think about what you're doin'," Collins said.

"I _have _thought about it," Angel told him, looking through the drawers of the dresser. "I have to go." Collins watched Angel pack in silence, hoping she would come to her senses and stop at any moment. His hopes were crushed when she closed the suitcase and picked it up.

"You ready?" Mimi asked her friend. Angel nodded and began leaving the room. Collins grabbed her arm again. "Get off of her, Collins."

"No," Collins said. "Angel, don't leave."

"Get off of her!"

"You're not taking her from me Mimi! I can't lose her! Baby, _please _don't leave me!" He looked into Angel's eyes and began to cry. She slipped her arm out of his grasp and took Mimi's hand. She, Mimi, and Roger left the room. Collins hesitated before following them. Roger opened the door and Angel looked back at Collins.

"I still love you," she said. "I just . . . I just-"

"Angel, I had a _really _bad drug problem," Collins said quickly. "When I saw James, I started to remember how the high felt and I wanted to feel it again. That's not the only time I've been tempted though." Tears fell from his eyes like rivers. "I kept trying to tell myself I didn't need the drugs because I had you, but . . . I'm not as strong as I thought I was and I gave in to temptation . . . more than once." Angel gasped softly. "The urges are getting worse . . . I don't know what to do."

"Honey . . ." Angel said, putting the suitcase down on the floor. She walked toward Collins and wiped some of his tears away. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him.

"Angel . . . please don't leave me. I need you. I need you . . . please help me, Angel. Help me." Angel cupped Collins' face in her hands and kissed his lips gently.

"I will," she whispered. "I'll help you. I'll stay and I'll help you."

**Review please.**


	7. Sleepless Night

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

Angel practically sprinted from the living room to the bathroom. She barely had time to grab a washcloth out of the linen closet as she passed it. It seemed like everything was moving at a faster pace than usual. Just a few hours after Roger and Mimi left the apartment, Collins began feeling nauseated and soon had a fever. As she ran cold water onto the washcloth, she listened for any sign that her lover needed her. There were a few moments of silence before she heard retching noises coming from the living room. She quickly turned the water off and rushed back to the living room after the washcloth was completely soaked. There, she saw Collins was halfway lying on the couch with his head in her pickle tub. She walked over to Collins as he laid his head on the arm of the couch, closed his eyes, and took a deep, shaky breath.

"False alarm," he said. His voice was just above a whisper. Angel helped him sit up so she could sit down. She let Collins lay in her lap as she gently took his beanie off. She then folded the washcloth and wiped some of the sweat off of his forehead.

"How much did you take?" she asked, putting the back of her free hand to his cheek. His fever seemed to be getting worse.

"Too much." Angel wanted to cry as she watched Collins shake uncontrollably. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. "I'm sorry, Angel. I'm _so _sorry. I didn't want you to have to do this."

"Shh . . . there's no need to apologize," Angel told him. "I couldn't let you go through this alone . . . again." She dabbed sweat from Collins' neck with the washcloth. "Where were you when you went through it the first time?"

"The park . . . lyin' on a bench." Collins started coughing and his head was soon back in the pickle tub. Angel placed a hand on his back as he dry heaved. She immediately started dabbing sweat off of him when he laid his head back on her lap. "I fucking _hate _dry heaving." Angel kissed Collins' forehead. "Angel, I apologize in advance for ruining your pickle tub."

"It's okay, honey," Angel replied. "I've got another one. I used to have three, but a bus ran one over." Collins wanted to laugh, even smile a little, but he couldn't. "Do you want anything? I can get you some water or something."

"I wanna sleep. I wanna throw up and then sleep." The phone suddenly rang. Angel didn't even think about answering it. She wasn't leaving Collins alone for even a second. Their outgoing message played and the loud beep followed.

"_Hey, it's me," _Roger's voice came from the answering machine. _"I know it's late, but I just wanted to know if everything is okay."_ Collins tried to sit up by himself, which let Angel know he wanted her to answer the call. She helped her lover sit up the rest of the way, stood up, placed the washcloth on the coffee table, quickly crossed the room, and picked up the phone.

"Hi, Roger," she said into the phone. "Everything's okay . . . for the most part." She turned and looked to Collins. He looked absolutely miserable. "Well . . . Collins is going through withdrawal." Angel kept her eyes on Collins. He wasn't moving much. "I asked him that. 'Too much' was his answer."

"Angel," Collins called in a soft voice. "I think I'll take that water." Angel held the phone to her shoulder.

"Okay, honey," she said to Collins. She put the phone back to her ear. "Roger, sweetie, I have to . . . oh, no, honey. You don't have to . . . okay. That's very sweet of you, thank you. See you soon." Angel hung up the phone and went to the kitchen. She got a glass out of one of the cupboards, filled it with cold water, and quickly made her way back to the couch.

"What'd Roger say?" Collins asked, sitting up again. Angel placed the glass of water in his hand and he sipped it.

"He just wanted to know how you were doing." Collins gave the glass back to Angel, picked up the pickle tub, and vomited into it. Angel went into the kitchen, grabbed a roll of paper towels, and gave one to Collins when she returned to him. He wiped his mouth and watched Angel head toward the bathroom with the pickle tub as he felt his body temperature drop. He crumpled the paper towel and set it on the coffee table. He then wrapped his arms around himself, laid on his side, and began shivering. His long-sleeved shirt was soaked with sweat and he tried to convince himself that was why he was so cold.

"Angel . . ." he called weakly, knowing Angel wouldn't be able to hear him. He hated feeling so helpless. And he hated that Angel had to take care of him even more than that. A few tears fell from his eyes as his lover came back into the room.

"Honey, are you okay?" Angel asked him, placing the washed out tub on the floor before kneeling in front of the couch.

"I'm freezing." Angel put the back of her hand to his neck. His skin was still hot to the touch.

"You feel like you still have a fever though." Collins shook his head.

"I'm freezing, Angel," he said. "And my shirt is wet." Angel stood up and left the room again, this time returning with a blanket. She helped Collins sit up and he moved away from her when she tried to take his shirt off.

"Honey, it has to come off," she told him.

"I'm cold, Angel," Collins replied.

"I know, sweetie. And your shirt is soaked. Keeping it on is only gonna make you even colder." Collins slowly lifted his arms and allowed Angel to slip his shirt over his head. He then laid back down as Angel draped the blanket over him. He received a kiss on the cheek as someone knocked on the door. Angel walked to the door and opened it while Collins remained on the couch.

"Hey, Angel," Roger said, walking into the apartment. The rest of the bohemians were close behind him. They all looked like they'd just gotten out of or were just heading to bed.

"Roger, you didn't have to bring _everyone_," Angel told the rocker.

"That wasn't the plan. I told Mark and Mimi where I was going and they said they were coming too. Then Mark called Maureen and Joanne and they said they wanted to be here." Roger looked at the shivering Collins on the couch. "How's he doing?"

"I think he still has a fever, but he said he's freezing." Roger made his way over to the couch, knelt in front of it, and looked into his miserable friend's eyes.

"Don't worry, Collins," he told him, taking his leather jacket off and placing it on top of the blanket. "It's okay. We're all here for you. Everything's gonna be okay." More tears fell from Collins' eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you so much." He looked to the rest of his friends. Mimi had a hand over her mouth and looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment. He took his hand from under the blanket and pointed at her. Roger turned to look where he was pointing.

"Mimi, what's wrong?" he asked, standing up. Everyone's attention was now on Mimi. She opened her mouth to say something, looked at Collins, and bolted out of the apartment. "Mimi!"

"Go after her, Roger," Angel told her friend. Roger ran after Mimi as Angel walked back to the couch. She picked up the washcloth. "Can someone take this and run it under cold water please?" Joanne took the washcloth out of Angel's hand and went into the kitchen as the drag queen knelt in front of the couch. Maureen joined her.

"Hey, baby," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Collins replied. He was still shivering. Maureen kissed his forehead and his attention fell on Mark. "Mark . . . I'm sorry for threatin' you. I shouldn't have-"

"Don't worry about it, Collins," Mark interrupted. "I know you didn't mean it." Joanne reentered the room with the now damp washcloth. She passed it to Maureen, who gently dabbed sweat off of Collins' forehead.

"Live in my house, I'll be your shelter," Angel sang softly. "Just pay me back with one thousand kisses. Be my lover, I'll cover you." As he listened to his lover sing to him, Collins began slowly drifting off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Collins' eyes fluttered open. He saw the daylight coming through the window of the fire escape and his friends sprawled out on the floor. He immediately realized that his head was on Angel's lap, his nausea was gone, and he wasn't cold anymore. He sat up and pushed the blanket and Roger's jacket off of him, causing Angel's eyes to open. He noticed she wasn't wearing drag anymore. She smiled a sleepy smile at him.<p>

"Hey, sweetie," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Collins replied. "How long was I out?" Angel squinted at the clock on the wall on the other side of the room.

"Two . . . maybe three hours." Angel yawned and rubbed her eyes. She wanted to tell him that James had called while he was asleep, but decided it would be best to keep that a secret until later. "I called NYU and told them you weren't feeling well. They said some of your students said you looked like you were out of it last week and they think you should take some time to get yourself together."

"Did I get fired?"

"No, you just got a week off." Collins nodded as Angel yawned again.

"Did you get any sleep, baby?"

"Not much." Angel put the back of her hand to Collins' forehead. "Oh, your fever's broken."

"I don't feel nauseous anymore either." Angel smiled at her lover as he looked at their sleeping friends. His eyes landed on Mimi. "What was wrong with Mimi?" Angel looked to the sleeping latina.

"She saw what was happening to you and she got scared," she explained. "She said she doesn't think she's gonna be able to go through it." She stood up and held her hand out to Collins. "Let's go to the bedroom and sleep." Collins took her outstretched hand and let her lead him to their bedroom. Once they were lying in bed, Collins wrapped his arms around Angel and held her close to him.

"I love you, Angel," he whispered to her.

"I love you too, honey," she replied.

"I wanna have a baby with you." Angel turned in his arms to face him and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Honey, there's nothing I want more than to have your baby, but I'm not a woman." Collins kissed her forehead.

"Yes you are." He kissed her forehead again and she giggled.

"I meant I'm not a biological woman, sweetie. I don't have the right . . . parts."

"That doesn't mean we can't have a baby. We can adopt." Angel's eyes widened. "What now?"

"You mean it?" she asked excitedly. "You really wanna adopt a baby?" She had discussed her dream of having a family of her own with Collins many, many times, but she never pressured him into adopting just because she wanted to.

"Well, yeah," Collins replied. "We can go to an adoption agency and adopt a newborn, or close to a newborn. We'd be a nice little family. Mom, Dad, and baby. Just like you've always wanted. What do you say?" Tears of joy filled Angel's eyes.

"I say . . . let's adopt a baby," she said.

Collins smiled at her and they shared a sweet kiss.

**Review please.**


	8. Mamma Who Bore Me

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

"You guys are really gonna adopt a baby?" Mimi asked. Everyone had been up for a few hours before Angel and Collins came back into the living room. They were smiling at each other, which was normal for them, but the other bohemians were a little annoyed that they were ignoring them. It was then that the couple revealed their intentions of making an addition to their family.

"Yes we are," Collins replied, wrapping an arm around Angel. The drag queen snuggled up to him.

"That's so sweet!" Maureen exclaimed. She turned to Joanne. "Pookie, _we _should have a baby! We can go to a sperm bank and-"

"Honey, I don't think that's a good idea," Joanne interrupted.

"You don't wanna have a baby?" Maureen pouted and her bottom lip quivered.

"It's not that I don't want a baby. It's the sperm bank idea I don't like. I mean, you never know who those donors are."

"You could always have Mark be your donor," Roger said, smirking. Joanne glared at the rocker and Mimi giggled as Mark's face turned red.

"But we need a black guy's sperm!" Maureen shouted. Everyone's attention went to her. "I want the baby to be black _and _white. It only makes sense. _Please, _Pookie? I'll have it and everything."

"Hold up, Mo," Collins said. "I don't think the world is ready for pregnant you." Maureen stuck her tongue out at the anarchist.

"Maureen . . . I'll think about it, okay?" Joanne told her girlfriend. Maureen squealed and pounced on Joanne, knocking her over.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed. The rest of the bohemians laughed as someone knocked on the door. Angel got off of the couch, walked over to the door, and opened it, allowing James to enter the apartment. Everyone fell silent as Collins stood up and walked toward his brother.

"Get the hell outta here!" he demanded, pushing James back toward the door.

"Honey, don't," Angel said, taking Collins' hands off of James' arms. "I told him it was okay for him to come."

"Angel, _he's _the one who convinced me to do all the drugs I did last night."

"I know. He called while you were asleep and told me." Collins looked from James to Angel. "He said he needs to talk to you." Collins looked back at James. The two brothers stared at each other for a long moment.

"What do you want, James?" Collins asked. "What could you possibly want with me now?"

"I want you to come with me to see Mom," James told him. Collins sighed, walked back to the couch, and sat down. "Tom, she _really _wants to see you."

"No, she doesn't!"

"Yes, she does."

"Leave, James. Just go, okay?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere until you agree to come see Mom."

"I don't wanna see her! How many times do I have to fucking say it?"

"Honey, I think you should go," Angel told her lover.

"Angel-"

"She's your mother, sweetheart," the drag queen interrupted. "And she's on her deathbed. You have to see her because if you don't and she dies, it's gonna haunt you for the rest of your life." Collins looked into Angel's eyes and tried to convince himself that she was wrong. He didn't have to see the one person he hated more than Benjamin Coffin III if he didn't want to.

"Baby, you don't understand how bad me seeing her will be," he said.

"Tom, you don't have to talk to her," James told his little brother. "But you _have_ to hear what she says." Collins looked to him. "She had her nurse turn her bed to face the window so she can watch the sun rise and set each day. All you have to do is stand by the door while I visit her. You _need _to hear what she says about you, Tom."

Collins looked away from his brother and into Angel's eyes. Those made him realize he had no choice but to at least listen to his dying mother's words. He sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he said.

* * *

><p>Collins followed James through the halls of the hospital. As they walked, he took in what was happening around them. He watched as several people were rushed into the ER on stretchers. He imagined that was how his mother came to be there. The elevator ride was completely silent. Neither of the brothers even made eye contact with each other. Once they entered the Intensive Care Unit, Collins walked a few inches behind James.<p>

"Hey, James!" a nurse called. Both James and Collins' attention went to her and James flashed her a smile.

"I take it you're pretty popular around here," Collins commented.

"A little," James replied. He began to slow his pace when they neared the rooms in the 800s and completely stopped walking when they reached room 811. "Okay, Tom, you stand by the door and just listen." Collins nodded as James slowly opened the door. The bed had been turned to the window and Collins could just barely see his mother's head. Upon seeing James and Collins, the nurse that was in the room silently decided she should let them have their visit in peace.

"Grace, I'll be back in a little while, okay?" she said. She then exited the room, smiling at the two brothers as she did. James walked to the chair that was beside Grace's bed. Collins stayed exactly where he was.

"Hi, Mamma," he greeted, giving his mother a kiss before sitting down. Collins watched as Grace reached out to touch James' cheek.

"Hi, James," she replied. "You know this is my favorite time of the day, don't you?" James smiled at her and chuckled.

"I know, Ma. You've told me before. How're you feelin' today?"

"I'm not in as much pain as I was in yesterday."

"Well, that's good."

"Just because I'm not in pain, doesn't mean I'm getting better, James."

"I like to think it does."

"Is Tommy comin' to see me today?" James' smile faded. "He's not, is he?"

"Not today," James answered somewhat sadly. Collins heard Grace sigh heavily. "I've been tryin' to get him here, Mamma. I really have." James took Grace's hand in his.

"Well, maybe he'll come tomorrow," Grace said. The disappointment in her voice was noticeable to Collins. "Tomorrow's his birthday, you know."

"I know."

"I don't like bein' away from him on his birthday, but I have been for six years. If I don't get to see him tomorrow, it'll be seven years." James gave his mother's hand a squeeze. "You know I sang 'Happy Birthday' to him every year on his birthday even though he wasn't around? Oh, I just miss him, James."

"I know you do, Mamma."

"I got him a present after you left yesterday."

"You got out of bed?" Grace laughed. Collins guessed she was laughing at the expression on James' face.

"No," she told her oldest son. "I had a nurse go buy the present. I want you to give it to Tommy if he doesn't come see me tomorrow, okay?"

"I will," James promised. His facial expression turned into a concerned one. "What's wrong, Ma?"

"I don't think he'll come." Grace slipped her hand out of her son's.

"You don't know that for sure." James tried his best to sound assuring.

"But it's a strong possibility. He . . . he hates me." Collins suddenly felt guilty for saying that he hated his mother. Hearing her say the word made him feel horrible.

"No," James said. "It might _seem _that way, but he doesn't hate you."

"Yes, he does. And I don't blame him."

"Mamma!"

"It's my fault he has AIDS, you know."

"No, Mamma. That's not your fault."

"I told you two that the only way to gain Darrell's trust was to be a customer as well as an employee. The thought of you or your brother usin' a dirty needle crossed my mind so many times, but I ignored it because the money was helpin' us. I didn't know . . ." Grace broke off.

"Mamma, don't cry," James told her.

"I . . . I killed my baby." Hearing his mother cry made Collins want to cry. He wanted to hug her and hold her. He wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault he had AIDS even though he'd been blaming her for years.

"Mamma . . . please stop cryin'," James said. Collins noticed that he looked like he was ready to cry himself.

"James . . . could you tell him I'm sorry?" Grace asked. James nodded. "And that I love him?"

"I'll tell him, Ma."

"I'm worried about him, James. I'm worried about the things he keeps inside. The things he doesn't talk about." Grace reached for James' hand and grabbed it. Collins studied the hand. It was small, brown, and looked fragile. "Be his big brother, James. Reach out to him. He thinks I don't love him like I love you and that's just not true. I just raised him differently."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"Well, I did everything for you because you were my first child. I wanted Tommy to be more independent, so I didn't do as much for him. It seemed like I was . . . pushin' him away. I think that made him feel unloved." Collins' urge to cry came back. He'd spent his entire life hating his mother for absolutely no reason. Now he hated _himself. _A few tears fell from his eyes as James stole a glance at him.

"He felt like you didn't care about what he went through or what happened to him," James said.

"But that's not true."

"I know it's not, but he doesn't see it." There was a silence. "Ma, how come you didn't tell me Darrell was testin' his homemade drugs on Tom?"

"He told you about that?"

"Yes. Why didn't _you?" _

"I didn't want you to feel bad about it happening. It's just like when I told you not to tell him about what was happening with you and Jerome." James winced. "I wanted both of you to keep those things from each other because you looked out for one another. I didn't want you two to feel like you failed each other as brothers just because I failed you both as a mother."

"You didn't fail us as a mother, Mamma," James said. "You did a damn good job raisin' us."

"Then why hasn't Tommy called or come to visit me?" James was silent.

"I'll get him here. I promise you."

"Make sure you tell him I love him."

"I will."

"And that I miss him."

"I will."

"And tell him the story of his birth. Tell him why he's my little Miracle Baby." James nodded as Grace slipped her hand out of his and placed it on his cheek. "Tell my Miracle Baby I love him and I'm _so _sorry I was such an awful mother." Collins bolted from the room. He'd heard enough. He took the stairs to the ground floor and once he was outside of the hospital, he fell to his knees and began sobbing. Minutes later, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I told you she loved you," he heard James say. He picked himself up off the ground and turned to face his brother.

"She shouldn't," Collins replied as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I am . . . the _worst _fucking son on the face of the planet."

"No, you're not. You just didn't know she was raising us differently. And you _definitely _didn't know she was blaming herself for all of the things you were blaming her for." Collins sobbed even harder and James pulled him into a hug. "Shh . . . you just didn't know, Tom. You just didn't know."

**Review please.**


	9. Pursue the Truth

**I own nothing but the plot line. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

Shortly after leaving the hospital, Collins and James decided to go to a small diner for coffee. The anarchist noticed that his brother was avoiding making eye contact with him while they waited for their coffee. He could tell something was bothering him, but he wasn't sure if he could help him. After all, they hadn't seen each other or spoken in six years.

"James?" Collins began. James brought his attention to his little brother. "Are you okay?" His tone was sincerely concerned and it made James smile a little.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm just . . . trying to figure out how to tell you why you're Mom's little Miracle Baby. I don't know where to start."

"How 'bout the beginning?" James thought for a short moment.

"Well, first of all, you and I . . . don't have the same dad."

"What?" Collins' eyes were wide. "But-"

"Mom didn't wanna tell you until you were older," James interrupted. "Then when you _were _older, she was diagnosed with cancer and we got tied up in that shit with Darrell." Collins nodded slowly.

"So, who _is _my dad?" he asked.

"A man named Thomas Brown."

"When did Mom meet him?"

"Well, when I was about two-years-old, Mamma and my dad were havin' serious problems."

"How serious?"

"They couldn't stand to even look at each other anymore."

"Damn."

"Yeah. He told her he might file for divorce and moved out. A few days later, Mom met Thomas Brown after work and he gave her a ride home. After my babysitter left, she made dinner to thank Tom for the ride and we ate together. Pretty soon, he was comin' over every night for dinner. Then one night, Mom took me to stay with Grandma and said she would be back to get me in the morning."

"What happened with her and Tom?"

"What do you _think _happened?" Collins gave an understanding nod and waited for his brother to continue. "She and Tom saw each other for about three months before my dad came back into the picture. He gave her some bullshit apology, she broke things off with Tom, and my dad moved back in. She found out she was pregnant a month later and she was excited at first. Then she realized that the baby would give away the fact that she'd had an affair." A waitress then came to their table with their coffees.

"Did she ever consider . . . abortion?" Collins asked, slowly picking up his coffee.

"Never crossed her mind," James replied. "She knew she couldn't keep you a secret, so she told my dad she was pregnant and, of course, he automatically thought you were his. He wised up when four months passed and she was bigger than she should have been. She broke down and told him about Tom."

"What'd he do?"

"He was pissed. The bastard hit her right in front of me. Knocked her on the floor. Then he stormed out of the house and was just gone. Grandma moved in to help her out." James took a sip of his coffee and put the mug back on the table with more force than necessary. "Four days before her due date, he came back pretending he had a present for you." James looked down at the table. "There was no present."

"What happened?" James looked up at his little brother. His eyes were narrowed.

"He shot her. He shot her in the stomach and then left." Collins was at a loss for words. "Grandma called 9-1-1 and Mom was rushed to the hospital. Then she put me in the car and we followed the ambulance. They did an emergency C-section. Through it all, Mom kept saying, 'Save my baby. Save my little Tommy.'"

"We both survived," Collins stated. James nodded.

"You both survived, but you had to be rushed into surgery," he said. He grabbed Collins' left arm, extended it, and opened his hand. "The bullet from my dad's gun was lodged in your little hand." Collins stared at the small, circular scar on the palm of his left hand.

"That's where this came from?" James nodded and released Collins' arm.

"Mom didn't see you for a whole week. She and Grandma prayed the whole time and when you were finally brought to her, she called you her 'little Miracle Baby' and told you she loved you over and over again. She cried and she held you as close as she possibly could."

Collins pictured himself as a newborn infant in his mother's arms. It had taken him his entire life to realize that she was one of the sweetest women he knew. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that someone had actually tried to kill her.

"I want to visit her tomorrow," he said. "I want to apologize for being such a rotten son and tell her how much I love and care about her." James smiled at his brother. They both took drinks of their coffee. "James?"

"Yeah?" James replied.

"What happened with you and Jerome?" James winced just as he had back at the hospital.

"Nothing." James avoided looking at Collins while he sipped his coffee.

"I told you what Darrell did to _me. _Why can't you tell me-"

"I don't feel like talking about it, okay?" James interrupted, slamming his mug down on the table. A few people stared at him. Collins reached out and touched his arm.

"I'm here for you, James," he told his brother. "Let me help you." James kept his attention on the table.

"I wanted to take half of the money I'd made one night back home to Mom instead of just twenty-five percent," he said. "I asked Jerome if he could ask Darrell about it and he told me I could go ahead and he'd cover for me. He said I could just take half whenever I had to as long as I came to him and told him about it." James shifted in his chair. "I thought he was just being nice, but then he told me I had to do something for him." James fell silent.

"What did he make you do?" Collins pressed. James remained silent and refused to look at him. "James, what happened? What did you have to do for him?"

"Favors," James answered. "Sexual favors." Collins gasped and took his hand off of his brother's arm. "I felt . . . so . . . _dirty._ I took scalding hot showers all the time and I still didn't feel clean. Guess it's my fault for agreeing to it."

"No, it's not," Collins told James. "Did you ever tell Darrell?"

"I was _going _to, but I knew I'd be in serious shit if I told him I was taking more of his money than I was supposed to." The brothers finished their coffee in silence.

"Do you wanna come back to my apartment for a little while?" James simply nodded.

They soon left the diner. As they walked, they talked about what they had done in the past six years. Collins shared the story of how he met his friends and eventually the love of his life. James made a joke about how he thought Sophie was the love of his brother's life and Collins, for some reason, had to force himself to laugh. Yes, he and Sophie had something special once, but he was with Angel now. He tried his hardest to keep any form of romantic thought about Sophie out of his mind and that plan failed the second he opened the door of his apartment and stepped inside.

There she was, sitting on the couch between Roger and Mimi with her curly hair draped over her shoulders and sporting a black eye.

**Review please.**


	10. Do My Eyes Reveal Promises or Lies?

**Yeah, I'm updating this. **

**I own nothing but the plot line and a few OCs. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

The brothers stared at Sophie in silence. James was a bit angry that she was in Collins' apartment, but Collins wasn't sure _how _he should feel. Angel knew absolutely nothing about his past and that included Sophie. He had made sure he never mentioned her when he and Angel talked about their previous relationships. Now that she was right there on the couch, he knew he couldn't hide it any longer. He just hoped Sophie hadn't said anything yet.

"Tom!" Sophie exclaimed, standing up and rushing to the younger brother. She threw her arms around him and he returned the hug, trying his best to ignore the looks of confusion he was receiving from his friends. James pulled the girl away from Collins.

"Sophie, what the hell?" he said. "I _told _you not to follow me!"

"And_ I _told _you _I wanted to see Tom!" Sophie shot back, snatching her arm away from James. Angel then emerged out of the kitchen and smiled when she saw Collins and James. Collins quickly made his way over to her and kissed her passionately. He then looked at Sophie, who was staring at him with a blank expression on her face.

"Welcome back, honey," Angel said. Collins looked back at her. "How did everything go with your mom?"

"Good," Collins replied. "I'm visiting her tomorrow."

"That's great!" Collins looked at Sophie again, who was walking toward him. She started to reach out to him, but she wrapped her arms around herself instead.

"Tom . . . you didn't-"

"Not here," Collins interrupted, placing his hands on Sophie's shoulders.

"We shared so much last night," the girl said. "How come you didn't mention that you were with her? Why did you lie to me?"

"I'm sorry, he didn't mention he was with me?" Angel asked. Collins looked to the drag queen. She was scowling at him.

"Not at all. I asked him if he was seeing anyone and he said no." The bohemians collectively gasped. "Why did you tell me that?"

"Yeah, Collins, why _did_ you tell her that?" Collins looked at Angel, then at Sophie, and then back to Angel. They both had stern expressions on their faces. He racked his brain for the best answer possible.

"I . . . I don't want my past to disrupt anything in the present," he said.

"So, it's safe to assume she knows absolutely nothing about us, then?" Sophie asked bitterly. Collins closed his eyes and sighed as the bohemians gasped again. "Tom . . . we promised we would tell each other everything no matter what. No secrets, remember?"

"That's what _we _promised," Angel said. Collins opened his eyes and Angel forced him to look at her. "When exactly were you planning to tell me that our promise was recycled? And when the hell were you going to mention you dated a _biological _female?"

"Ang, you _know _I'm bi," Collins pointed out.

"But you've _never _said anything about dating her! What did you 'share' with her last night?" Collins looked down at his shoes.

"Drugs." His voice was soft.

"What else?"

"We shared drugs and that's all."

"Is it really?" Collins looked up at Angel. She looked angrier than he had ever seen her before.

"Yes. That's all we shared, Angel, trust me."

"Collins, how the _fuck _am I supposed to trust you right now? All of this is coming out in little spurts of information and you _still _don't want to tell me the truth! You lied to me _and _Sophie! You broke the promise you made to both of us! Why would you do that?"

"I already explained that. I _do not _want anything in my past to disrupt anything in the present."

"So, you think you can live two lives?" Sophie asked. "You think you can be Tom _and _Collins? Where did you even come up with that name?" Collins sighed again and mentally prepared himself for Angel's next statement.

"You didn't even tell me your real fucking name?" she shouted. "You have _got _to be kidding me!"

"Tom, you need to choose _right now _who you want to be," Sophie said.

"What does that mean?" Collins asked.

"Do you want to be Tom or do you want to be Collins?"

"In other words, do you want her or me?" Angel added. She and Sophie folded their arms. Everyone in the room waited for Collins' answer. He kept looking back and forth from Angel to Sophie. This was not a decision he could make right then and there.

"This isn't fair," he said. "You can't make me choose between you. I . . . I love you both."

"Who do you love more?" Sophie asked.

"I can't do this right now."

"You _have _to, Tom. Choose one, or lose us both."

"I _can't _do this right now, okay?" The volume of Collins' voice had risen. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Enough about me. What happened to your eye?"

"I'm _not _going to let you avoid this."

"Sophie, what happened to your eye?" James asked. Sophie looked to James and slowly unfolded her arms. She looked at the floor. "Well?"

"Darrell." The brothers shared a look. "I was following you here and he caught me near the park."

"Then why the fuck are we all in the same place?" James grabbed Sophie by her arm. "We're leaving. Tom, I'll see you tomorrow." Collins nodded as his brother pulled Sophie out of the apartment. The anarchist then turned to face his friends. They all stared at him in silence. Angel's expression broke his heart. She looked hurt beyond repair.

"I should've left last night like I wanted to," she said. A tear rolled down her cheek and she stormed out of the room.

"Angel, wait!" Collins pleaded. Angel ignored him and the bedroom door was slammed a few seconds later. Mark stood up slowly and everyone's attention went to him.

"I think . . . we should go," he stated. The rest of the bohemians stood and filed out of the apartment in silence.

Collins sat down on the couch, leaned back, and put his hands over his face. His past was doing a great deal of damage and he hadn't even told his friends about it. It wasn't that he didn't trust them with the information, he just knew they could be harmed if they had it. Not only was he burdened with figuring out how to deal with that, but now he had to choose between the two people he cared about more than anything in the world. Never in all his years of life had he felt so stressed. Bringing his hands down to his sides, he closed his eyes and tried to think of a sensible solution to his problems.

* * *

><p><em>Collins opened his eyes and immediately realized he was lying on the ground. He knew right away he was dreaming. He sat upright and looked at his surroundings. There were tall trees with different shades of green leaves all around him. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were chirping. It was a beautiful place. He sat there for a moment and listened to the birds' songs while he tried to figure out where he was.<em>

"_Collins?" he heard Angel's voice call. He stood up and looked around. "Collins? Where are you?" He followed the sound of his love's voice until he ended up in the middle of a large circle of trees. There, he saw Angel smiling at him. She was wearing a long, formal, white dress and a shoulder length, black wig. In her hand, she held a white rose. _

"_Angel . . ." Collins said. "Baby, you look . . . beautiful." Angel's smile widened as Collins walked to her. She held out her hand and he kissed it gently. _

"_Tom?" a voice called from behind him. It belonged to Sophie. He turned to face her. She was wearing a short, low-cut, red dress and her hair hung over her shoulders. A red rose was in her hand. "Tom, what are you doing over there? You know I'm the one you want." Sophie walked toward Collins. _

"_Sophie?" The girl placed her hands on his chest and looked into his eyes._

"_Don't you miss me, Tom?" she asked, bringing her face closer to Collins'. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I was your first. You remember our first time together, don't you?" Before Collins could respond, Sophie walked away from him and stood right next to Angel. Both of them stared at the anarchist._

"_Honey, you have to choose," Angel told him. He felt like crying._

"_I can't," he replied._

"_Do you want to lose us both?" Sophie asked._

"_No . . . no, that's the __last__ thing I want, but I . . . I can't choose. I love you both so much."_

"_I love you, too," both Angel and Sophie said. Collins studied each of them. He wished he could fuse them together into one perfect person, but he knew that was impossible. He would eventually have to choose and lose one of them._

_He had been with Sophie for three years. They looked out for one another for the duration of their relationship. She was the first person who had ever made him feel wanted and loved. If he chose her, he knew exactly what to expect. He would help her get off the drugs and they would spend the rest of their lives protecting each other. He really did miss her._

_But Angel. Their four-month anniversary was coming up. In the short time they had been together, Collins didn't think it was possible to feel the way Angel made him feel. She made him realize that he had more emotions than he knew about. He seemed to fall in love with her all over again every single day and vice versa. He didn't want to lose her._

"_Who are you thinking of choosing?" Sophie asked. _

"_Don't think, sweetie," Angel said. "You know you have so much on your mind already, you don't need this piled on all of that. Listen to your heart. Your heart knows who you want."_

_Suddenly, Angel and Sophie began fading away. Collins watched with widened eyes. His feet wouldn't allow him to move so he could get to them._

"_Choose . . ." they said together before they disappeared completely._

* * *

><p>Collins jolted awake and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep. A hand touched his shoulder. Taking his hands away from his eyes, he saw that Angel was standing over him. She was out of drag and had a concerned look on her face. Like she had just received some bad news.<p>

"What's wrong?" Collins asked.

"I couldn't wake you up," Angel replied. "I shook you and everything."

"I didn't even know I fell asleep until . . ." Collins stopped himself. He didn't think it was wise to mention the dream he'd had to Angel.

"'Until?'"

"I was dreaming."

"Well, you've been on the couch for hours. Are you coming to bed?"

"I thought you were mad at me. That's why I didn't follow you. I thought you wanted some time alone. And I just assumed that I would end up on the couch tonight anyway."

"When have I _ever _made you sleep on the couch?"

"Well . . . never, but-"

"I thought about everything and I realized being mad at you about this isn't going to get me anywhere," Angel interrupted. "In the months we've been together, anytime I caught you in a lie, you always had a good reason for it. I don't think I should think of this situation any differently. No matter how much it annoys me." The drag queen turned to go back to the bedroom.

"I want you to meet my mom," Collins said. Angel stopped in her tracks as her lover stood up and walked to her. He took her hands in his. "Would you be willing to meet her?"

"That depends on how long you were with Sophie."

"What does that mean? What does that even have to do with anything?"

"I'd rather not be compared to her."

"My mom won't compare you to Sophie. She's never met her." Angel stared at Collins in disbelief and decided not to ask questions.

"Fine then. I'll meet your mom." Collins gave a small smile as Angel slipped her hands out of his and headed back toward the bedroom. His smile faded as he followed her and thought of possible ways to get her to forgive him.

**Review please.**


	11. I'm Such a Sham

**I own nothing but the plot line and a few OCs. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

After receiving a phone call from James telling them to meet him at the hospital, Collins and Angel headed to the subway station. The two of them were completely silent as they walked to the station and remained that way while they were on the train. Once they exited the train and began walking the three blocks to the hospital, Collins periodically tried to hold Angel's hand. Each time he did, the drag queen would move her hand out of his reach, eventually deciding to walk with her arms folded. Collins stopped trying once James came into view.

"Hey, you two," James said as the couple reached him.

"Hello, James," Angel replied. James smiled at Angel before he turned his attention to Collins. He noticed a sad look in his brother's eyes and immediately knew it had to have something to do with the falling out he had witnessed the previous night.

"You ready to see Ma, Tom?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Collins replied.

James nodded and opened the door, holding it open for both Angel and Collins. Once they were inside the hospital, James led the way just as he had the day before. Several nurses and doctors greeted him as he, Angel, and Collins walked through the halls. When they reached Grace's room, James gave Collins a reassuring smile before he slowly opened the door. He immediately went to Grace's bedside.

"Hi, James," she said. James smiled at her.

"Hi, Ma," he replied. His smile grew wider and he beckoned to Collins, who hesitated before joining his brother at their mother's bedside. "Look who's here."

As she looked at her youngest son, Grace's eyes widened and she gasped loudly. She brought a hand up to her mouth and tears filled her eyes. Collins wanted to say something, but he figured he should let Grace get over the shock that he was actually visiting her first. He gently took her hand in his as she took it away from her mouth.

"Tommy . . ." she said. "I can't believe you're here."

"Honestly, neither can I," Collins admitted. "But I'm here and I'm sorry for not coming sooner."

"Did James tell you about your birth?" Collins nodded. Grace smiled at James and then turned back to Collins. A few tears fell from her eyes. "It seems like only yesterday I was in the hospital, like I am now, holding you and watching you smile at me." She paused for a moment. "Tommy, I'm _so _sorry for—"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Ma," Collins interrupted. "If anybody needs to apologize for anything, it's _me. _I convinced myself I hated you for no reason at all."

"No, sweetheart, you _did _have a reason to hate me. And I don't blame you for doing so." Grace continued before Collins could say anything. "All that aside, I'm so happy you're here. Both of my boys are together again."

Collins and James shared a look. They both knew being together wasn't necessarily a good thing, but they let their mother have her moment. Collins then looked to Angel, who was still standing by the door. Catching his eye, the drag queen walked toward him.

"Ma, I'd like you to meet someone," he said as Angel reached his side. Grace looked to her and waited for Collins to go on. "This Angel Dumott Schunard. She's the love of my life." Collins searched Angel's face for some sign that she still loved him, but found none. Not even a smile.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Angel," Grace said.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Angel replied. Collins was just about to try holding Angel's hand again when a doctor entered the room. He looked to James and then to Collins.

"Are you two Grace's family?" he asked. The brothers both nodded. "May I speak with you?"

Collins and James slowly followed the doctor into the hallway. Collins saw Grace take Angel's hand in hers as the doctor closed the door.

"Give it to us straight, doc," James told the doctor. "Don't beat around the bush. Just say what you need to say." The doctor sighed heavily.

"Very well," he said. He hesitated before continuing. "Grace has been fighting this thing for quite some time. The only difference now is that the cancer is much more aggressive than it's been in the past. We've . . . done all we can do up to this point and her condition shows no signs of improving . . ."

"What are you saying?" Collins asked, already fearing the answer.

"At the most . . . Grace has two to three weeks left to live." Collins' mouth dropped open as James closed his eyes and put his head down. "I'm very sorry." The brothers stood in complete silence for a long moment. The doctor was just about to walk away when Collins finally said something.

"Isn't there . . . _anything _you can do for her?" he asked.

"There is, but it would only extend her life for . . . maybe another month," the doctor replied.

"It's still _something_. Do it."

"No," James said, opening his eyes and looking to the doctor. "Don't do anything." Collins looked at his brother in shock. "Could you give us a minute, doctor?" The doctor nodded and walked away. James turned to Collins, who still had a shocked expression on his face.

"James, are you kidding me right now?" he asked. "He said they can do something to let Mom live longer, and you don't want them to?"

"No, and neither should you," James replied. "I know it seems like we'd get to have a little more time to spend with her, but she would just be suffering longer than necessary." Collins looked to the floor. He closed his eyes tightly and forced himself not to cry.

"It's not fair, James" he said. "I see my mother for the first time in seven years, and I'm told she only has three weeks to live?" He looked up at James. "It's not fair."

"I know how you feel, Tom," James said. "But we have to keep this from Mom. I want her last moments on this earth to be happy. Okay?"

Collins nodded as he blinked away his tears. He and James silently went back into their mother's room. Collins instantly saw that Angel had been crying. Her expression was the same as it was when Sophie revealed that Collins hadn't told her his real name. He rushed over to her.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked. He attempted to take her hands in his, but, once again, she pulled away from him. "Angel . . ."

"She said you haven't been honest with her," Grace said. "And that you haven't told her about your past. Is that true, Tommy?" Collins didn't respond and stared at Angel as she wiped some of her tears away. "Thomas?"

"What did you tell her?" Collins asked. His attention remained on Angel as he spoke.

"I didn't tell her anything, but _you _need to." Collins looked to his mother in disbelief. "Sweetheart, I understand why you've kept certain things from her, but—as smart as you are—you should know you can't leave Angel in the dark."

"Mom—"

"Do you love her?" Grace interrupted. Angel looked at Collins and waited for his answer.

"More than anything in the world," Collins replied. "And it's _because _I love her that I have to keep the past away from her. Mom . . . you _know _Darrell."

"Yes, and I know _you_, too. Meaning, I know you have the power to protect Angel. You don't have to be afraid of Darrell, Tommy. The only thing you should be afraid of right now is losing Angel, which you will if you aren't honest with her."

Collins looked to Angel. He had never wanted to upset her as much as he had. His mother had spoken the truth and he knew he had no choice but to make things right. Losing Angel was the last thing he wanted to happen. Thinking about this made him recall the difficult task of choosing between her and Sophie that he would have to face. Prolonging a decision as big as that would only lead to more issues. Not just in his relationship, but also with his friends. Throughout the years he had been in New York City, his friends had become like family. They all looked out for and loved each other, and Collins wasn't about to lose the people who had cared for him for so long. There was only one solution; he had to come clean.

It was time for Collins to introduce his loved ones to the real him.

**Review please.**


	12. This Is Who I Am

**I own nothing but the plot line and a few OCs. The Almighty Larson owns the rest.**

Collins was pacing back and forth in the loft. All of his friends were sitting around the room in silence, looking back and forth from him to the neatly wrapped gift he had received from his mother that he'd placed on the coffee table. They had been waiting for over an hour for an explanation as to why they had been gathered, and why Collins was pacing. After what seemed like two hours, someone knocked at the door. Collins immediately stopped pacing and went to answer it as his friends watched him. James was standing on the other side with Sophie right behind him. Sophie made brief eye contact with Angel.

"Sorry it took so long," James said as he and Sophie entered the loft. "I wanted to make sure we weren't followed."

Collins nodded and slid the door shut. He then rushed out onto the fire escape and looked at the street below. James and Sophie knew exactly what he was looking for, but the bohemians were at a loss. After a few moments, he joined Sophie and his brother in the open area of the loft and faced his friends.

"Is someone gonna tell us what's going on now?" Maureen asked for everyone. Collins closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He reopened his eyes when James placed a hand on his shoulder.

"As much as I want to, I can't keep my past away from you guys," he said as James removed his hand from his shoulder. "It's not doing anybody any good, and it's caused some serious tension between us. So . . . I'm going to tell you all about my past and let you know who I really am."

The bohemians looked around at each other for a short while before turning their attention back to Collins.

"I was born in Harlem as Thomas Martin," he began. "I'm the second child of Grace Martin. You've all met my brother already. I had a pretty standard childhood, but my life took a turn for the worse when I was sixteen and James was eighteen." Collins looked to his brother. "Our mom's health was deteriorating. We noticed something was wrong a few days after Thanksgiving and we wanted to take her to get checked out. She refused to go to the hospital, but she collapsed one day and could no longer be stubborn. When the doctor told us she had cancer, we had no idea what to say."

Collins paused for a moment to make sure his friends were following him. They all had expressions of sadness on their faces.

"She had to stay in the hospital for a month," he continued. "And by the time she was able to leave, she had an outstanding medical bill. The stress of having to pay it took a serious toll on her health, so James and I decided we'd take care of it. We didn't know how we were going to do it, but we were determined to pay that bill. We were talking about what to do in a park near our house and . . . someone overheard our problem."

"Darrell?" Angel guessed. The bohemians looked to Angel and then back at Collins, who simply nodded.

"He approached us and told us that we could work for him if we were in desperate need of money," he said. "We were skeptical, but no one around was hiring. He gave us an address where we could meet him that very night. As soon as we stepped into that place, we knew he'd hired us to sell drugs and that we'd made a mistake by promising to work for him. The only reason we stayed is because we were afraid of what might happen to us if we tried to leave."

Collins took another brief pause. He knew that he would soon get to his addiction and the pact he'd made with James and Sophie. He wasn't quite sure if he would be able to talk about that, but he knew he would have to. He did, however, plan not to go into too much detail.

"Darrell ended up paying the bill for us in exchange for our work," he went on. "One day, Leon—one of Darrell's right-hand-men—said something about being afraid of James and I telling the cops about Darrell's drug operation. We were under serious surveillance after that. Our mom told us that Darrell would never be able to fully trust us unless we were . . . consumers as well as employees. It was frightening to think about, but . . . James and I decided to try shooting up just once to gain Darrell's trust and get his lackeys off our backs."

Collins stopped speaking for a long while. Tears filled his eyes and he blinked them away. James once again put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We both developed serious addictions, but James' was _much _more serious than mine," Collins said. He looked to James and avoided mentioning that his dear brother was still a victim to his drug addiction. James stuffed his hands into his pockets and tried not to make eye contact with Collins. "And once we started using, the debt we were trying to work off increased."

"The estimated two years it would have taken us to repay Darrell was extended," James added.

"After we'd been working for him for about three years, he hired a new employee," Collins carried on. He looked to Sophie, who tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "Darrell came to me and personally gave me instructions to show Sophie the ropes." Collins walked to Sophie and kept his attention on her as he spoke. "When she saw me shoot up for the first time, she asked me to teach her." He placed a hand on Sophie's cheek. "I should've told her no. I became the only person she felt she could trust, and vice versa. We spent as much time as we possibly could together and, eventually, we . . . fell in love."

Collins and Sophie looked into each other's eyes for a short while before Collins turned back to his friends. He studied their expressions. Angel was looking down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. The drag queen's reaction to what he'd just said caused Collins' heart to sink. He looked at the dirty floor beneath his feet as he continued.

"After Sophie and I had been together for over a year, I . . . found out I had AIDS," he said. "Sophie got herself tested and when her results came back negative, I decided I wanted to turn my life around so I could be with her for a long time. I started trying to get clean, but being employed by a drug lord makes that quite difficult. I failed six times before I realized the only way for me to get off the drugs was to leave."

"I thought he was crazy for wanting to leave, but I knew he wouldn't be able to take care of his health if we stayed around Darrell," James interjected.

"So, together, James, Tom, and I came up with a plan to get out of Harlem for good," Sophie added.

"The first thing James and I had to do was get our mom somewhere safe," Collins said. "Once we did that, we packed up whatever we could carry and met at Sophie's apartment since it was the only place we knew Darrell wouldn't be able to find us."

"I was the closest to Darrell, so I was able to get into his safe and get us enough money to leave town," James stated. "I also stole six grand worth of drugs while I was snooping around."

"As soon as James got the money and drugs, the three of us left with no destination in mind," Sophie said.

"We ended up in Queens and started squatting in a seemingly abandoned apartment building," Collins told the bohemians. "In three months, we ran out of drugs and were running low on money. Sophie pointed out that we could never let Darrell find us. And then _I _pointed out that if Darrell _did _somehow find us, it would be easy for him to kill us if we were together."

"That's when we split the rest of the money and went our separate ways," James said. "I went to Buffalo to take care of Mom, Sophie stayed in Queens, and Tom came here."

"We made a pact to meet up again in Queens five years from then, but when the time came . . . Tom never showed up," Sophie added.

"By the time I was supposed to head back to Queens, I had already met Mark and moved in here," Collins said, looking to Mark. His friends followed suit. "He found me on a bench in Central Park. If it hadn't been for him, I probably would have starved."

"Was it the bench you said you were on when you went through withdrawal the first time?" Angel asked.

"It was. I saw people with drugs, but I refused to investigate where they were coming from. I wanted to be clean and as far away from my past as possible. When Mark asked me what my name was, I had to stop myself from giving him my real name. I had already told him my name was Tom, so I had to think of a different surname. I remembered the first drink I had when I turned twenty-one was a Tom Collins . . . and that's who I became. I told him to call me Collins because I didn't want anything more to do with the name Tom."

"When Tom didn't show up in Queens, Sophie and I panicked," James took over. "We knew we wouldn't be able to file a missing person's report without Darrell getting wind of it, so we waited for two weeks to see if Tom would call or something. After those weeks, I came here, found a place for Sophie and I to stay, and then searched for somewhere Mom could stay so I could be close to her. Once we were all here and settled in the city, I started looking for Tom. After a while, I got a phonebook and just started calling people."

"He was just about to give up when he called here," Sophie stated.

"You guys already know everything that happened after that," Collins said. His friends nodded understandingly. "So . . . that's my past. You all know who I am now: an ex-junkie whose whole life has been nothing but running away and hiding from his past. I hope you can all forgive me for keeping you in the dark for so long."

Collins looked around at his friends as they processed his words. He was afraid that they would decide not to forgive him and turn their backs on him. It wasn't that he felt he didn't deserve it for being so untruthful. It was the fact that he had grown to love his friends so much that he couldn't imagine life without them. They had all been there for him when he felt as though he was all alone. Just as he was about to speak again, Maureen stood up. All eyes were on her as she made her way to Collins. She stared at him for a long moment before trapping him in a hug, which he returned. One by one, the bohemians stood and hugged their friend just as Maureen had done; even Angel, who immediately reminded Collins of the crucial decision he had to make. He broke the hug between himself and Angel and looked to Sophie.

"I've made my decision," he announced. He walked to Sophie and took her hands in his. He heard the bohemians' collective gasps behind him. "Sophie, you were my first love . . . and you've always been in my heart." Sophie smiled at him as he looked back at Angel. The drag queen was looking back at him, waiting for him to say something more. "But Angel . . . she saved me. The night we met, I was mugged and badly beaten. If Angel hadn't found me in that alley, I probably would've bled or froze to death. But she didn't just save my life . . . she saved my soul. She purified me. She showed me how to love and live without all the drugs I thought I needed. She . . . completes me. She makes me whole."

Collins turned back to Sophie and let go of her hands. She had a confused expression on her face. Collins hated to hurt her in any way, but the version of Angel he'd seen in his dream had told him to listen to his heart. And his heart was telling him that he needed Angel.

"Tom . . ." Sophie said. "I . . . I don't—"

"I know you'll be hurt by this, and I'm sure you'll understand my decision someday, but I'm choosing Angel," Collins interrupted. He walked to Angel, who had tears in her eyes. "If she'll have me, that is."

Angel said nothing. She simply threw her arms around Collins' neck and hugged him tightly. Collins returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Angel's waist. They whispered, "I love you" into each other's ears as they embraced. Behind them, Collins heard the loft door slide open. He ended his and Angel's hug and turned around to see that Sophie was gone.

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